


The Apocalypse

by MonPetitTresor



Series: Family Don't End With Blood [9]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Apocalypse, Dean starts out as a jerk, Feels, Fighting, He gets better, Hurt Dean, Hurt Sam, Hurt Tony, I promise!, JARVIS and Bobby become friends, Protective Jarvis, Protective Tony, Supportive JARVIS, Tony Is a Good Bro, Tony and Dean, Tony joins Team Free Will, don't get along, he has a business to run!, he's not there all the time, sort of, supportive tony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-07-14
Packaged: 2018-11-15 10:52:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 36,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11229444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MonPetitTresor/pseuds/MonPetitTresor
Summary: This story will take us through the Apocalypse. Things are a little different when Tony Stark is involved. Though he can't be there all the time, he's not leaving Sam to handle the Apocalypse on his own. He's going to be there for him, no matter what, and do what he can to try and find ways to help him AND keep him safe. Now, if only Sam didn't make that so difficult!Meanwhile, Sam's trying to find a way to make it through the Apocalypse, keep Tony as out of it as possible, repair things with his brother, keep Tony and Dean from killing one another, and all the while deal with the devil stalking his dreams. It's not going to be easy, but it wouldn't be the Apocalypse if it was...





	1. Chapter 1

Sam would openly admit that he sort of checked out a bit after Tony got them out of the convent. Everything came crashing in on him and he just felt, empty. Sort of blank. His body responded when Tony murmured to him, putting one foot in front of the other and allowing the older man to lead him to a car, but he didn’t say much of anything as he was tucked inside. He didn’t even pay much attention when Tony slipped into the driver’s seat, or when Dean froze outside the car.

“You getting in or what?” Tony asked, giving Dean an arch look. The suit had come off at some point – when had that happened? – and he pushed a red and gold briefcase over to Sam, who took it silently.

There was a moment of quiet and then the back door opened and closed again a second later.

He had no memory whatsoever of their drive to wherever they went. When he opened his eyes again, he realized that Dean at least must’ve directed them, because there was no way Tony would willingly pick a place like this to hang out at. The motel was a rundown looking piece of crap, but it had two beds, and it was somewhere they could lay low. That was good enough for Sam at the moment. He followed Tony, letting the man help him out of the car and steer him inside by a hand in the small of his back. Once they were in, Tony kept steering him, pushing him in the direction of the bathroom. “Go on, go get cleaned up. You look like you could use a warm shower.”

“Now wait just a minute,” Dean started to say, only to be cut off by Tony, who actually shifted so that he was directly between Sam and Dean. He smiled up at Sam and patted his shoulder before nudging him towards the bathroom again. “Go on, puppy. I’ll take care of things out here. You just get cleaned up.”

Sam summoned up enough energy to look back at Dean’s thunderous face and then down to Tony’s calm one. “Behave?”

“When don’t I?”

There were so many ways Sam could argue that. Tony very _rarely_ behaved and they both knew it. But they also knew that he’d at least try, for Sam. Holding on to that, Sam nodded his head and let Tony push him in the direction of the bathroom. His body moved on autopilot, going in and shutting the door behind him, turning the water on to just the right temperature, and then stripping out of his clothes. It wasn’t until he was standing under the spray that he started to come back to life. The grief that he felt was finally able to break past the shock. It pushed free and washed over him like a tidal wave.

Sam had to brace his hands against the shower wall and close his eyes as he fought to keep steady. His breath caught in his chest. What had he done? _God_ , what had he done? Opening his eyes again, he drew his shaky hands away from the wall, pulling them in until he could stare at them. What he’d done with those hands, with his body…

Before he knew it, he was on his knees, hands just barely catching him before his face would’ve hit the tub, and his back was bowing as he threw up the contents of his stomach. When he saw all the red that was washing down the drain, he only heaved harder.

* * *

Tony watched the bathroom door shut behind Sam and wished more than anything that he could get the kid out of here and back home. Get the kid back home with him under the protection of him and JARVIS and just keep him safe. Especially with… what just happened. Which Tony very much did _not_ want to think about right now. Nope. Not at all. He was _not_ going to sit here and think about the fact that _Lucifer_ was walking the earth. Instead, he’d focus on the problems he was more capable of handling. Like Sam, his health, and the furious looking grunge kid glaring at him nearby.

Jesus, these guys made him feel _old_. When had he decided to surround himself with _babies_?

As if to help start proving that, the kid in front of him decided it was time to let out the tantrum he’d been holding in. At least he was nice enough to wait for the shower to start running. “I want some answers.” Dean told him, and wow, did this guy go out gargling rocks to get that kind of deep, husky voice? Or was he a, like, pack a day smoker? It suited him, oddly enough. “I’ve held my tongue since you showed up and got us out of there, and don’t’ think I’m not grateful, but what the hell is going on here? Since when does Sam know Iron Man?”

“Sam’s only known Iron Man for, what is it, eight months now? Nine?” Tony waved a hand negligently in the air. “Something like that. _But,_ if you’re asking how long he’s known Tony Stark, well, that’s a different answer.” With a casual air he’d learned a long, long time ago, before this kid here was even a twinkle in his Daddy’s eye, Tony strolled across the room to the rather unimpressive kitchenette area. Much as he’d like to raid the minibar for this discussion, alcohol had sort of become a no-no. Not that the rest of the world knew that. He had to settle for grabbing a bottle of water, seeing as how he didn’t trust any of the glasses in this little cesspool of a motel room. He held put on a smile as he turned back to look at Dean while opening the bottle. “We’ve known each other since Sam’s first year at Stanford.”

Just like he expected, the temper in Dean’s eyes flashed even brighter at that. “Since Stanford?” He paused, huffing out a laugh that was aching and empty, and he shook his head as he turned away. “Oh, no, that’s perfect. More secrets. Cause we sure aint had enough of those.”

Tony arched an eyebrow at him. Oh, yeah, this was going to be _fun_ , he could just tell. “Why don’t you pretend you’re more than a Ken Doll and use some of that brain your brother claims you have? It’ll make this conversation go faster.” When Dean spun back around, Tony smirked at him. “Old friend from Stanford, likes to help with research… ringing any bells?”

He actually saw it dawn on Dean. The way his eyebrows shot up, the light in his eyes, how his mouth dropped open just the slightest bit before it snapped shut again. “ _You’re_ T?”

Amusement curved Tony’s lips. He lifted his water bottle up in the air in a mock toast. “Cheers.”

As he took his drink, he watched Dean’s face cycle through a ton of emotions. The one it finally settled on was an imitation of the type of blank mask those in politics learned to wear. Or anyone who spent any time in the limelight. You learned to hide what you felt so that no one else got to see it. Dean, he had a pretty good imitation of that mask, though the anger leaked out around the edges, as did the exhaustion. “Great. That’s just… that’s great. My brother’s got himself a billionaire in a giant metal suit playing sugar daddy. _Awesome_.”

“Okay, first off – no.” Tony shuddered, and it wasn’t all for show. “No. Sugar daddy implies things I’m not entirely comfortable thinking about that kid in there. I mean, you do realize he’s twelve years younger than me, right? When I first met him, he still had a baby face, for crying out loud, and was scrawny enough to snap like a twig.” He let out another shudder. No, no, and no. The idea of sleeping with Sam, it’d never crossed his mind, not even when they’d first started hanging out. “Second of all, do you really think Sam’s the type of person to just take free money and things from people? I gave him a credit card ages ago and he never even uses it! I have to fight to get him to take the Starkphones I have for him.”

“I knew he couldn’t afford that phone!”

“Yeah, you were right, congratulations.”

“So, what do you want out of my brother? Like you pointed out, you're old compared to him. What is it you want from him if not that?”

That snarky little shit. Tony glared and used the water bottle to point at Dean. “I never said I was old. I'm not old! I'm just older than you two. You're both practically babies.” Drawing the water bottle back in, he smoothed out his expression. Then he shook his head. Why was he not surprised that Dean thought he wanted something from Sam? It was kind of funny, really, considering that the rest of the world would probably look at it the opposite way. They'd all assume that it was Sam using Tony for things, not Tony using Sam. “I don't want anything from him.” Tony said honestly.

Dean scoffed at that. “Yeah, right. You've got to want something.”

“Why?” Tony shot back. “You don't think anyone can want your brother around just for him?”

There was no telling what might've been said next. All conversation cut off when they caught the sound of retching coming from the bathroom. Both of them turned to look at the closed door. It was hard for Tony not to go in there. He hated vomit, he really did, but he had to fight the instinct to go and make sure that Sam was okay, that he wasn't going to choke on it or that he wasn't hurting himself or something else equally stupid. The heaves they could hear sounded painful. But right now he knew that the last thing Sam would want was either one of them in there. He wasn't going to want someone to come in and witness him being sick. Being weak. Tony could make himself stay out here. He could give Sam the respect of allowing him time alone to gather himself and his composure a little bit.

Clearing his throat, Tony turned his focus back towards Dean, trying to ignore the continued sounds from the bathroom. There was no telling how long Sam would be in there and Tony had a few things to get off his chest, first. “Okay, before he finishes up in there, let's just lay this all out in the open right here and now, kid. You're obviously unhappy and you don't seem all that fond of me, and that's great, that's fine. To be honest I'm not real fond of you, either. I think you're a dick.”

“Excuse me?” Dean demanded.

Tony ignored him. He straightened up, knowing that he didn’t have much height but also knowing just how intimidating he could make himself look. It was something he’d perfected in all those early board meetings where people thought they could steamroll ‘the kid’. They quickly learned otherwise.

“I met Sam when he was alone and terrified and trying his damndest to make it through college on a scholarship that didn't pay for anywhere near as much as you think it did.” Tony said bluntly. He'd been wanting to say a lot of this for a while now and he was going to say it whether Dean liked it or not. If they were going to be dealing with one another after this - and Tony was beyond done hiding his relationship with Sam, at least from the people closest to them - then Dean was going to know the score. “I let him come and stay with me on holidays because he would’ve been homeless otherwise when the dorms closed. I helped take care of that kid when you and your family bailed on him just because he dared to want something different. And I've been by his side as best as I can be since then, even when you and your angel buddies were knocking him down every step of the way.”

“Great job there, buddy.” The sarcasm in Dean’s tone was thick. He wasn’t the least bit intimidated by Tony. In fact, he stepped forward, bringing them even closer together, and he had no problems giving him the dirtiest of looks. “Where were you when Sam was sucking down all that bitch blood and letting freaking _Lucifer_ free, huh?”

“Getting attacked by a homicidal maniac and trying to find a cure for myself before I died of palladium poisoning.” Tony responded easily. Then he leaned in, until their faces were inches apart. “Where were _you_?” He smirked and drew back, lifting his eyebrows in his most smug look. “Oh. That’s right. You were busy climbing up an angel’s ass. How’d that work out for you?”

The fury that crossed Dean’s face was even stronger than before. It was almost enough to make Tony want to take a step back. Almost, but not quite. “You don’t talk about Cas. He saved our _asses_ in the end while you sat around doing jack squat.”

“Why don’t the both of you stop.” Another voice said. The two turned to find Sam standing in the doorway of the bathroom with just a towel around his waist. He looked exhausted, way too damn thin in Tony’s opinion, but more composed than he had bee. That inner strength that had gotten him this far in life was coming forward and helping to hold him up. “We’ve got more important things to do than listen to you two bicker about your places in my life.”

Dean turned to look at him and something passed over his features, something that Tony didn’t understand but that Sam seemed to, judging by the way he winced. Dean snorted. “Yeah, I think we’re pretty clear on that.”

“Dean,” Sam said softly.

He was cut off by his brother shaking his head. “Don’t. You’re right, we’ve got more important things to take care of right now. We need to find Cas.” Without another word, he turned and headed towards the door, ignoring them both. “I’ll meet you outside.”

Tony watched him go until the door was shut behind him. Then he turned to look at Sam. “Well. I take it we’re leaving?”

Sighing, Sam lifted a hand and ran it through his wet hair. It didn’t escape Tony’s notice that the hand shook ever so slightly. “Yeah.” Then he dropped his hand down and gave Tony that little half smile he always wore when he was trying to act like he was going to be okay. “Explains the trashy room. Pay by the hour places are never that great. We have to use them now and again when we need time to shower and get a quick nap before we head out.”

“Charming.”

“It is what it is.”

The kid’s legs were steady as he made his way over to the duffle bag on the bed. He didn’t show any shame at all in tossing his clothes down on the bed and then reaching out to put back on the same boxers he’d been wearing before. The idea of that made Tony wrinkle his nose. Gross. But Sam did it all like it was nothing. His movements were almost mechanical. Something that was being done without any real thought behind it.

Tony waited until Sam had gotten dressed once more before he walked over to him. When he put his hand on Sam’s shoulder, he watched the taller man jump, saw him twitch like he wasn’t sure what to expect only to relax when his eyes landed on Tony. He leaned in to the touch, not saying a word, and Tony didn’t say anything either. They didn’t need to have words right now. Not when Sam had just worked so hard to pull himself together. Later, once they got done with things, once they were able to relax for the night, Tony would pull Sam aside and talk with him. He’d find out what happened and what they needed to do now. For the moment, he just stood there beside him, letting Sam know with his presence that Tony wasn’t going to go anywhere. That he was still standing by what he’d told Sam before – he had his back. No matter what.

* * *

That silent support was put to the test quite a bit over the next few hours. Quiet had never been Tony’s strong suit. Nor had the whole ‘laying low’ thing. But when they reached the house of the very same prophet who’d written those _interesting_ books Sam had sent his way, his Winchester asked him to do just that. “Chuck’s kept you out of the books, and I’d like to think the angels don’t know much about you, though I’m not real hopeful on that.” Sam said. “On the off chance they don’t, let’s not throw you in their faces, all right?”

Tony grumbled to himself about it, but he did it. He sat in the back of the Impala the boys had gone to fetch, trading the last car out for this one, and he stretched his legs out so he had a good, comfortable view of the house. Not that anything happened. The only real thing that happened was that Tony was left alone with his thoughts for a good half hour – thoughts that included the fact that _Lucifer was walking the earth_.

What the hell were they going to do about this? This was way outside his abilities. He was what he jokingly called an armchair hunter. He knew information, lore, things like that. He’d been devouring books ever since he’d first learned about the supernatural and he’d had JARVIS compiling information on it as well. There was plenty that Tony knew, in a theoretical sense. But practical application? He had no practice being a hunter and he didn’t think he wanted to start getting some by going after the devil himself.

No, he wasn’t going to be a help on the physical side of hunting down Lucifer. The mental, though? That, he could help with. And, much as it’d probably surprise Pepper, he could be an emotional support as well. Because Sam was going to need that. His little breakdown in the shower was only going to hold him over for so long. Sam took on guilt like most people breathed. The fact that no one had known killing Lilith was a _bad_ thing – and who would think that killing any demon was bad? – wouldn’t matter to him. He’d beat himself up over it. What Tony wanted to see before he decided on his own plans was how the rest of Sam’s happy little group was going to act over it. Would they be able to see that this wasn’t Sam’s fault? Or were they going to blame it all conveniently on him?

Judging by the anger rolling off Dean when the two came back out not much later, Tony was going with the second one.

“I take it things didn’t go too well in there?” He asked once the two were back in the car.

Sam hunched down a little in his seat, head ducking low. “Cas is, gone.” There was no doubt what he meant when he said that last word. It made Tony wince. Sam wasn’t done yet, though. “Apparently the angels weren’t ever trying to stop the apocalypse. They’ve been pushing it the whole time.”

“Nice.” Tony snorted, rolling his eyes as he dropped his head back. That fit with some of the things that Sam had told him and other things that hadn’t made any sense before. Like how it seemed that they were failing at saving any seals, or why the angels didn’t just give them a list of seals and see if they could find ways to protect them. They didn’t want them protected. They wanted them broken. “So what’s the plan now?”

Sam turned his head so he could look at Tony. “You’re sticking around?” Though his tone was blank, there was hope in his eyes, and Tony smiled at him. “Try and pry me away, pipsqueak.”

The way that Sam’s lips twitched in the ghost of a smile was great. The way that Dean growled?

Even better.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still in episode 1 of season 5. I'm trying my best not to make this a total retelling of that episode, but bear with me, guys. There's a lot of important stuff in that episode to cover.

Having Tony riding with them was a rather strange experience. Sam still couldn’t get past the fact that the man was _here_. That he’d come for Sam at all. Only Dean had ever done that for him. But Tony had come because Sam’s phone call had worried him and he hadn’t left afterwards. He’d saved them and then stuck around, smiling and joking with Sam the same way he always did, lending his steady presence without being the least bit bothered by the reactions it got him.

That part was even stranger.

The few friends that the Winchesters had made in their years had always been a fan of Dean. Even when they were Sam’s friends from school, Dean had always been the ‘cool one’. It didn’t matter how abrasive he got or how much he pissed someone off, he had a natural charm that always made people more endeared by his behavior than truly annoyed by it. He was funny, kind, protective, smarter than he gave himself credit for, handsome, and charming. Sam had always known that he couldn’t compete with that and it was fine. It was just how things were.

But Tony – Tony was here for _Sam_. He was making that abundantly clear. Even now, as they settled into their new room to try and figure out what to do and wait for Bobby to show up, Tony was kicked back on Sam’s bed with a Starklet in his hands, ignoring Dean completely. He’d stayed out of the way, letting them do their thing, and pretty much ignored Dean entirely. Not that Dean was doing any better. He’d seemingly decided that he’d ignore Tony if he couldn’t get rid of him. Sam was a little hesitant to leave them alone together, but there were a few things that he needed to get out of the car. “I’ll be right back.” He told them.

Dean grunted and continued cleaning the guns, avoiding Sam’s eyes completely just as he had been for a while now. Tony, however, looked up from his tablet and gave him a smile that didn’t hide the seriousness in his eyes. “Don’t go far.”

He didn’t. All he needed was to dig through the bag he’d left in the Impala after he and Dean… well, after he’d gone his own way. Sam pushed those memories back and refused to think about them. If he did, the continued guilt might just eat him alive.

Inside his bag he found just what he wanted. A couple of hex bags. He pulled those out and put them in his pocket before heading back inside. When he came through the door, he found that no one had really moved at all. Dean was still cleaning guns at the far table and Tony was still tapping away at his tablet. At least this time Dean actually looked up at him. “Hey. That was quick.”

From his pocket Sam pulled out the hex bags. He tossed one to Dean and then one to Tony. “I wanted to grab these. They’re hex bags – now there’s no way angels are gonna find us. Demons either, for that matter.”

Dean looked a bit suspicious as he glanced down at his, though it wasn’t like this was the first time they’d used them, but Tony looked curious. He set down his tablet so he could poke at the hex bag. He even sniffed it. “I thought hex bags helped witches kill people?”

“Some of them do.” Sam agreed. “But some of them can be used for protection.”

“Where’d you get em?” Dean asked.

This was the part that Sam hadn’t wanted to get into. The last hex bags they’d had, those had come directly from Ruby, but these ones had been sitting in Sam’s bag since before the whole incident with the panic room, and they were a bit different. Stronger. They were also ones that he’d made himself. Sam licked his lips, debating what to say before deciding there’d been enough lies lately. “I made them.”

“How?”

“I uh, I learned it from Ruby.” Sam said softly. The brief flash of disgust on Dean’s face was enough to make Sam _ache_.

The sound of Tony’s low hum cut off whatever Dean might’ve said next. He was still twisting and turning the bag in his hand and studying it like it was something he wanted to take apart and dissect. Likely, he did. Sam made a mental note to take Tony aside later and show him how to make one. It couldn’t hurt for him to know some simple things. This wasn’t _demon_ magic. This was magic that Ruby had learned before her time as a demon; when she’d been a witch. And despite what Dean thought, Sam didn’t subscribe to the belief that all witches were bad, or that all magic was bad. There were good things out there. White magic. It would seem that Tony was on his side of that, too. He wasn’t at all bothered by the bag he held. “This’ll keep them from finding us?”

Sam nodded at him. “It should. Just keep it on you and you’ll be hidden.”

Before they could get going – and Sam could definitely see that light in Tony’s eyes that meant he had a half a million questions building in that brain of his – Dean interrupted them. “Speaking of _her_ ,” He waited until Sam’s eyes were back on him before continuing, watching his younger brother suspiciously. “How you doing over there? You jonesing for another hit of bitch blood or what?”

“Classy.” Tony said in a dry voice.

Sam ignored it and looked at his brother, trying not to fidget underneath that look. “I uh, no. To tell you the truth, I’m fine. No shakes, no fever, none of that.” He couldn’t hold Dean’s gaze for this. His eyes dropped down and away and, though he didn’t know it, his entire posture radiated shame. “Ruby said I blew my entire payload on Lilith, and then after I, I think I threw up what was left in me.”

“Sounds like you’ve managed to bypass the detox, then.” Tony said. He sat up, folding his legs to cross under him, and he rested his elbows on his knees while he looked Sam over. “Count yourself lucky – detox sucks. The withdrawal isn’t much better, but it’s manageable. You’ve got enough willpower, you’ll make it.”

The support that Tony was throwing his way was more than appreciated. Yet, Sam couldn’t look away from his brother. Not when Dean was turning away from him like that or when he was walking away. “Dean.”

Dean sighed out a heavy breath. “Sam.” Even though he had his back to Sam, it was easy to tell that he’d lifted a hand up to rub at his face. “Look, it’s fine. You don’t gotta say anything, okay?”

“Well, that’s good, because what can I even say?” Sam took a small step forward, wanting nothing more than to reach out, to take hold of his brother somehow. “I’m sorry, Dean. I screwed up. I know it doesn’t really do it all justice, and that there’s nothing I can say or do that’ll ever make this right…”

“So why the hell do you keep bringing it up?” Dean demanded.

“He’s right.” Tony chimed in, cutting Dean off and surprising them all. He pushed up off the bed and walked over to stand at Sam’s side. When he got there, he gave him that gentle smile, the one that so few people would recognize, and he lifted a hand to curl it over Sam’s shoulder. “There’s no point in bringing it up over and over. Everyone screwed up, from the sounds of it. Hashing it out over and over isn’t going to do anything except feed that already massive guilt complex you’ve got going on, Sam. Why don’t we focus instead on what we’ve got in front of us? Come on,” With the hand on Sam’s shoulder, he nudged the younger man over to the side so they could easily move around Dean, and then drew him towards the table where a few books and John’s journal sat. “Walk me through it, puppy. If this were any other hunt, what would you be doing right now?”

“Um… trying to figure out where the thing is. Tracking it down.” Sam said. But, this was the _devil_. It wasn’t like they could go tracking down the devil. Once they did, what on earth would they do with it?

Tony seemed to be having the same thoughts. “Finding him is all well and good, but there’s no point to it if we don’t have a plan, and if we want to have some sort of plan against the actual devil, I think that calls for a little research first.”

“Researching the devil.” Sam couldn’t believe what he was saying. They were going to research the devil.

He was rewarded with a bright grin from Tony. The man clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Yep! I gotta say, kid. Things are never dull when you’re around.”

* * *

It was no real surprise that Dean settled down on a bed while Sam and Tony set up at the table to try and do their research. For the most part Dean seemed to have shut down on them. Everything that he really felt was hidden behind this mask that he was wearing and Sam hated it. He hated seeing it almost as much as he hated knowing just how badly he deserved it. He’d doomed the entire world because he thought he knew better than his brother, than _angels_. He’d screwed himself over on a mission that had ended up doing the opposite of what he’d wanted.

“All right.” The sound of Tony’s voice broke through Sam’s spiraling thoughts and brought his focus back up to the present moment. He looked up to find Tony setting his tablet down on the table in front of them. A few taps later and a Tony was grinning. “Hey, J, you with us?”

The familiar voice of JARVIS echoed up from the tablet. “Always, Sir.”

There came a surprised sound from over by the beds and Sam knew that Dean was likely looking over at them, wondering what was going on and who they were talking to. But for a moment Sam just smiled at the tablet and took the time to greet his friend. “Hey, Jarv.”

“Young Sir.” There was a wealth of warmth in that tone that reminded Sam so much of Tony. “Might I say, it’s wonderful to hear from you.”

“It’s really good to hear from you, too.” Sam said warmly. He snuck a glance over and saw his brother sitting up a little straighter, watching them cautiously, suspiciously, and he tried not to sigh. Of course Dean was going to be suspicious of anyone that Sam spoke with. Holding on to his sigh by sheer will, Sam tried to give his brother a reassuring smile. “JARVIS, I’d like you to meet my brother, Dean Winchester. Dean, this is JARVIS – Tony’s AI.”

The last part was the part he knew Dean would focus on. Much as he tried to deny it, he had a nerd inside of him too, and that nerd poked its head up at the word ‘AI’. “Your AI?” he sat up a little straight and was looking at the tablet with even more interest than before, and a whole lot less suspicion. “You actually created an AI?”

“I created JARVIS ages ago.” Tony waved a hand in the air dismissively, like it wasn’t any big deal. “Most people think he’s just a fancy computer voice for my security systems and such. But he’s more than that – he’s a _learning_ AI. That means he learns and grows just like any other human. Aint that right, buddy?”

“It is, Sir. I’ve learned quite a bit since my creation.” There was a pause and then a slight shift in the tone JARVIS used, something so small Sam doubted that Dean probably even noticed it, though both Sam and Tony did. They heard the slight cooling of his voice as he greeted Dean. “Hello, Mr. Winchester.”

Dean looked suitably impressed. Any other time – any other person – and he probably would’ve been over there geeking out just a little bit, asking questions or chatting with JARVIS. But his eyes darted to Tony, back to Sam, and then down to the tablet, and he ended up staying on the bed, though he did call back “Hey, JARVIS.”

JARVIS didn’t say anything in return, simply moved his focus on what was likely the reason that Tony had brought him up. “I’ve gathered all the information we currently have on angels, the devil, and the apocalypse, Sir.”

“Awesome.” Tony sat back in his chair, one leg crossed over the other, and he had a bottle of water that Sam had grabbed him earlier in his hands, waving around as he gestured with it. “Let’s get it sorted, J. Let’s sift through the angel information as well as the information on Satan himself and see if there’s anything n there that suggests how to fight them. There’s always something in the lore that shows any sort of weakness the monster-of-the-week has. Angels can’t be that different. Not even the devil.”

There was no chance for Sam or Dean to say anything against that. A knock on the door cut all of them off. In an instant, Sam and Dean both had their weapons in their hands, and Tony was looking at them with a slightly impressed look on his face. “Wow. You guys are fast. And a little paranoid.” He told them.

Sam pushed up from his chair, gun held comfortably in his hands. “We’ve learned to be a both.”

A look at Dean and a short nod told him that his brother would have his back. No matter what was going on between them, Sam trusted that. So he kept his own gun off to the side as he went up to the door and looked through the peephole. On the other side was a short, blond woman who was almost bouncing on her heels while she waited. Sam wasn’t stupid enough to be fooled by appearances, though. He switched his gun to his right hand and kept it hidden behind the door as he opened it up, his whole body ready and bracing for whatever trouble this might be. “Hello?”

The woman looked up at him and sucked in a sharp breath, her eyes going wide and her lips moving silently. It looked like she mouthed ‘oh God’ at him but he couldn’t be sure. Sam snuck a look over his shoulder at his brother, confused, and then turned back to the woman that was still staring at him. “Are you okay, lady?”

“Sam…” She breathed his name out like a prayer. “Is it really you?”

Yeah, okay. Sam’s suspicions grew a little stronger. He looked at Dean again, who was still holding his gun though he wasn’t as tense, and he looked just as confused. Looking away from the woman proved the wrong thing to do, though. She stepped up close to him and actually lifted a hand to put it against his chest. When Sam looked back at her, she looked, well… she looked a little too _pleased_ to be touching him. It made him feel just a bit uncomfortable. More so when she spoke in a shaky voice and said “And you’re so firm.”

The sound of a smothered snort from Tony had him shooting his brother a warning look to _shut up_. Sam tried to keep his voice steady and his expression blank as he asked the lady “Do I know you?”

She pulled back from him and shook her head. “Oh, no. No. But I know you. You’re Sam Winchester. And you’re,” She leaned around Sam to look at Dean, and her expression fell a little bit. “…not what I pictured.”

This time Tony’s snort was louder and carried a hint of laughter to it. Sam immediately shifted and blocked the girl’s view of Tony. She lit up as she smiled up at Sam and finally got around to introducing herself. “I’m Becky!” Then, while Sam was too bewildered to do much, she pushed past him and strolled right into the room like they were old friends or something. Her face was lit up with a light that made him want to keep his distance. She was watching them excitedly, hands up and moving as she spoke, her whole body almost _vibrating_. “I read all about you guys! And I’ve even written a few…” Pausing, she trailed off, giggling a little and flushing, and then she looked back up at Sam and beamed. “Anyways! Mr. Edlund told me where you were.”

Now that was enough to get everyone’s attention. Dean rose to his feet and Sam quickly shut the door. “Chuck?” Dean asked.

Becky nodded her head quickly. “He’s got a message for you, but he’s being watched.” She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “ _Angels_.” Her eyes moved to Dean and she smiled. “Nice change-up to the mythology, by the way. The demon stuff was getting kind of old.”

Things were starting to make a bit more sense in Sam’s head and he wanted to groan. During his time at Stanford – and honestly, time spent with Tony – he’d learned a lot about ‘fandoms’ and the people who were in them. For the most part they were just like any other group of people. They banded together over their shared love of something and it was a great, fun space for them to let go, to share their love of something. Some were a little more – exuberant than others, true, but it was usually harmless. Looking at Becky, he had a feeling ‘harmless’ wasn’t really a word that would apply to her. He carefully made sure to keep his voice even and not try to get her too excited; she’d already showed she was a bit excitable. “Um… what exactly was his message, Becky?”

“He had a vision.” Becky said. She closed her eyes and held her hand up, moving it in front of her as she repeated the words she’d memorized. “’The Michael sword is on earth. The angels lost it.’”

Dean and Sam exchanged quick looks. “The Michael sword?” Dean repeated.

“Becky, does he know where it is?” Sam asked quickly.

She nodded again. “In a castle, on a hill made of forty-two dogs.”

Silence fell over the room. Almost simultaneously, Dean and Tony said “Forty-two dogs?” They looked at each other, quickly looking away.

Hearing Tony speak seemed to have drawn Becky’s focus to him. She looked confused, eyebrows furrowing, and Sam hurried to distract her. “Are you, uh, are you sure you got that right, Becky?”

Her eyes snapped back to Sam’s face and she was smiling again. “I know! It doesn’t make sense, but that’s what he said.” Stepping in close to him, she tilted her head up, staring up at him in a way that had Sam wanting to take a step back. “I memorized every word.” One of her hands lifted and laid against his chest. “For you.”

Sam gave both his brothers a wide-eyed look in a silent appeal for _help_. Dean just gave him a look and took a step back as if to say he was staying out of it. Tony was watching carefully, head tilted as he studied them. Sam looked back down at Becky, who had her eyes closed as she rubbed her hand over his chest. “Um… Becky, can, uh… can you, quit touching me?” Sam stammered out.

Eyes still closed, she shook her head no. “No.”

That – okay, that was creepy, and more than uncomfortable, and Sam immediately took a step back. When she actually made as if to follow him, Sam made a sound that he’d later deny, one that was a bit too close to a squeak for comfort. However, it thankfully got his asshole brothers to move. Or, at least, one of them. Tony strolled over to Sam and made a ‘tsk’ sound as he did. “Sam, Sam, Sam, didn’t anyone ever teach you manners?” When he got close, he slid an arm around Sam’s waist and bumped him to the side, effectively moving him out of Becky’s touch while at the same time also putting them in a hold that Sam immediately knew looked anything but innocent. Especially when Sam instinctively responded to the bump by bringing his own arm up and curling it around Tony’s shoulders.

Tony beamed at Becky. It was his publicity smile; the one he wore at public events where he needed to charm the people he came across. Becky wasn’t immune to it. Even as she stared at the way they held one another, she was smiling just a little at Tony as he stuck his free hand out towards her. “Sorry about this big lug’s manners here. It’s been a long few days. It’s nice to meet you, Becky. I’m Tony.”

Though Tony had a pretty recognizable face, his currently messy hair and the plaid over shirt he’d stolen from Sam earlier and slung on to warm up gave him a bit of a different look. Hopefully enough that she wouldn’t place ‘Tony’ with ‘Tony Stark’.

“I’ve never read about you.” Becky said.

The way that Tony’s smile twisted a little, the edge it got, was one that Sam had seen before, though usually when Tony was telling him stories about parties he’d gone to. It was the grin he got when he was talking about whoever it was he’d hooked up with for the night. Seeing the man wear it while talking about _him_ was so many different kinds of wrong. “Oh, I know. Chuck was nice enough to keep _some_ things out of the books.” He tipped her a wink and then leaned his head in to rest against Sam’s shoulder. As she gaped at him, and Dean actually made a little choking noise, Tony continued on. “We really appreciate you delivering this message for us, Becky. It’s going to help a lot with what we’re working on. I’ll make sure to let Chuck know just how grateful we are the next time that we speak. Was there anything else you were supposed to pass along, or anything else he needed you to do?”

Sam watched on with amusement as Tony broke away from him and expertly and efficiently steered Becky over towards the door without ever one getting her to lose her smile. By the time he shut the door, Sam wasn’t able to hold back his chuckles anymore. He looked at Tony, who was smirking back at him. “That was disturbing on so many different levels.”

He enjoyed the husky sound of Tony’s laughter. The man strolled past him, clapping his shoulder as he went. “You’re not the one who had to smirk and pretend to be thinking nasty thoughts about their little brother. I need a shower!”

The words ‘little brother’ had Sam sneaking a look at Dean, but he found his brother’s expression too shuttered to read. Dean wouldn’t even meet Sam’s eye as he turned and walked into the bathroom. The sound of the door shutting had Sam flinching. Knowing and understanding that Dean had every right to be upset with him didn’t make it any easier to deal with. How was he going to fix this? How the hell was he going to make amends for something like this?

Turning, he looked over to Tony and tried not to let too much show on the outside. He knew Tony was worried about him. It was probably the whole reason he was still here. Sam didn’t want to give him more reasons to worry. So he put on a smile and moved to join Tony at the table. “We should get to work.”

“Sam,”

“Don’t.” The word came out a whole lot sharper than Sam had intended. He saw from the corner of his eye the way it made Tony’s mouth snap shut. Feeling guilty, Sam closed his eyes for a brief moment and consciously gentled his voice. “Just… not right now, Tone, okay? I can’t right now.”

There was only a brief pause before Tony exhaled slowly. “Okay.”

Grateful, Sam turned his focus to the tablet that had stayed silent through this whole thing. “JARVIS, can you look into any references on a Michael Sword or about a castle or a hill of forty-two dogs?” Maybe losing himself in work for a while would help this gaping, aching place deep down inside of him, a place that told him he wasn’t okay and might never be again.

* * *

It wasn’t much later – and just barely into their research on angels – when another knock sounded through the room. This time Dean was the one to answer it. When he opened it to reveal Bobby Singer on the other side, he gave the most honest smile he’d given since he showed up at the convent. “Hey, Bobby.”

The two embraced, Bobby slapping a hand against Dean’s back as he held him. “Good to see you boys all in one piece.” He lifted a smile that included Sam, even if it was a bit strained at the edges, and when he held his arms out Sam stepped into them easily, taking the hug from the man who was like a surrogate uncle to them. In that embrace as a safety that Sam had always associated with Bobby. When they were kids and they’d used to go visiting at Bobby’s – while John did research or he needed a place or the boys to be so he could do a hunt – the older man had always been gruff, but also always free with his touches. A pat on the shoulder on the back, ruffling their hair. Hugs, though. Those were for greetings or goodbyes, or for something special like after a nightmare or when someone got hurt.

The two pulled back just as Dean asked “You weren’t followed, were you?”

The look Bobby gave him made it clear how stupid he found that question. Still, he said “You mean by angels, demons, or Sam’s new superfan?”

Sam couldn’t help it. He laughed. “You heard.”

“I heard, Romeo.” Bobby gave him a dry look and then turned his focus back to the room. Or, more accurately, over to Tony, who was standing near Sam’s bed in a pose that only Sam knew meant Tony felt awkward and uncomfortable. “You must be Stark.”

“Guilty as charged.” Tony stuffed his hands into his pockets and rocked back a bit on his heels, his smile never faltering. “You must be Bobby Singer. Your reputation precedes you.”

“Funny. Yours does, too.” That said, Bobby deliberately turned away from him and moved over towards the table. “So… sword of Michael, huh?”

Behind his back, Sam shot Tony an apologetic look. That hadn’t been the reaction he’d been expecting from Bobby. Blunt and gruff though he may be, he was typically a bit more verbal. Sam had expected questions and concerns. Suspicion, even. Not this – this casual disregard. But he tabled those thoughts as Bobby sat down at the table and set down a book he’d had under his arm.

“So you think we're talking about the actual sword from the actual archangel?” Dean asked.

“You better friggin' hope so.” Bobby opened the book to a page that showed a painting of Michael, surrounded by other angels. “That’s Michael, toughest son of a bitch they got. He commands the Heavenly Host. During the last big dust-up upstairs, he’s the one who booted Lucifer’s ass to the basement. An he did it with that sword.” Bobby lifted a finger and tapped it against the sword in the image. “So if we can find it...”

“We can kick the devil's ass all over again.” Sam finished. A light of hope built down low in his stomach. Despite everything, it built there. If they could find this, they might be able to stand a chance here. They might actually be able to _fight_. “All right. So, where do we start?”

Bobby nodded his head at the books on the table. “Divvy up and start reading—try and make sense of Chuck's nonsense.”

As Sam made his way over to a stack of books near the beds, he found his thoughts twisting and swirling in him. There was an undercurrent in the air that he’d have to be an idiot not to notice. No matter how hard he tried, his thoughts kept circling round and round a few things. Did Bobby know? Did he know what Sam had done? _Does he hate me for it, or is he at least willing to put up with me like Dean is?_ The questions hurt to think and he knew they’d probably hurt even more to get the answers to. Still, he had to know. He couldn’t just stand here wondering. Ignoring Tony’s low “Sam?” from his side, he turned to look at Bobby and Dean, both of whom were sitting at the table. Bobby looked up, catching Sam’s eye, and his brows furrowed in confusion. “Kid, you all right?”

The decision only took a split second to make. As soon as he did, Sam straightened himself up, squaring his shoulders as he braced for the worst. “No, actually. Bobby… this is all my fault. I’m sorry.” He let out a shaky breath, ignoring the way that Dean said his name, low and warning, and how Tony was watching him with concern. Sam had to say this. He had to do this. “Lilith didn’t break the final seal. She _was_ the final seal. I… I killed her, and I set Lucifer free.”

Silence fell over the motel room. Tony was a tense line at Sam’s side, his eyes sharp as they focused on Bobby just the same as Sam was. Dean – Dean had his head bowed as if trying to decide between ignoring them or watching. But it was Bobby’s face that held Sam’s attention the most. The blank look that settled there. The anger he saw briefly flash in those eyes. “You what?” Bobby asked flatly.

It was so hard not to flinch at that tone. Sam somehow managed to keep himself still and not let his pain show. “You guys warned me about Ruby, about the demon blood, but I didn’t listen. I brought this on.” This was his fault. All of it. It was all on him.

Tony’s hand settled on his arm. “No, Sam.”

He was cut off by Bobby pushing to his feet. Though Sam didn’t see it, Tony tensed even more, ready and more than willing to step in if it proved necessary. He stayed tense and watching as Bobby walked right up to Sam and glared up at him. When the man spoke, Tony could feel as Sam jolted under his words. “You’re damn right you didn’t listen.” Bobby told him. “You were reckless and selfish and _arrogant_.”

Each word was like a blow. Sam stood there and took them, knowing that he deserved them, and knowing he had nothing better to offer than a soft “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, yeah? You’re sorry you started Armageddon?” Bobby shook his head incredulously. “That kind of thing don't get forgiven, boy. If, by some miracle, we pull this off…I want you to lose my number. You understand me?”

Tears burned in the back of Sam’s eyes. The only move he made was to reach his hand out, palm open, to stave off whatever it was that Tony was about to say. Sam kept his eyes on Bobby as he said “There’s an old church nearby. Maybe I’ll go read some of the lore books there.” His voice was hoarse, he knew, and broken, yet he couldn’t stop it. His heart felt like it was being ripped out of his chest.

“Yeah. You do that.” Bobby said.

Sam turned away, gathering up some of the books that he’d been studying before. His hands shook just the slightest bit as he did. _This is no more than I deserve. He has every right to hate me. I doomed the world. He’s right – that’s not something that gets forgiven_. Closing his eyes for a moment, Sam took a steadying breath and then opened them again and straightened back up. He found Tony there waiting for him, already reaching out to take some of the books. The older man kept his hold on Sam’s arm. However, he turned his eyes to face the rest of the room. “Before we go, let me make one thing very clear here.”

“Tony, don’t.” Sam said softly.

“Oh, no, puppy, it’s my turn to speak now.” Tony’s voice had reached a dangerous tone; one that usually meant trouble for whoever was in front of him. At the moment that was both Dean and Bobby.  He looked back and forth between the two and sneered at them like they were bugs on the bottom of his shoe. “I don’t know where the hell either one of you think you get off being so judgmental here. Sure, Sam made a huge mistake here, and it’s got some pretty damn big consequences, but you all seem to be forgetting one thing here. _All of you_ were looking to kill Lilith. If it hadn’t been Sam using his powers to do it, it would’ve been another way. From the sounds of it, the angels were trying to engineer it anyways, so they would’ve made damn sure Sam was the one to make the kill no matter how it was done. So yeah, he screwed up with the blood, but don’t throw the blame for this whole mess on his shoulders. You and the rest of the crew all need to own your own shit.”

Without another word or look for them, he turned and curled his arm around Sam, pulling him over towards the door, grabbing the suitcase that held his suit on his way past. “Come on. Let’s go do some research and get a bite to eat. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! Comments fuel the writer :)


	3. Chapter 3

The two men went down to the church just like Sam had said they would. Only, when they settled into the pews in the back, it wasn’t to do research. The books were set down at Sam’s side and he meant to pick them up. Really, he did. It was just – he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He couldn’t bring himself to do anything but sit there and stare at the pew in front of him while his eyes burned with the tears that he absolutely refused to shed. What right did he have to sit here and sulk and act like a child? This was his mistake. He needed to own up to it. Accept that he’d done it. It was only right he suffer for it.

Tony sat down beside him with a low, heavy sigh. He was close enough that his body was a warm presence at Sam’s side.

For what felt like a long time the two of them just sat there together in silence. It was Sam who finally broke it. “They aren’t wrong, you know.”

“Sure they are.” Tony said immediately.

His instant defense warmed up some of the cold places inside of Sam. Even though he knew Tony was wrong, it still was nice to know that someone was in his corner. “No, they aren’t. I did start this, Tony. I knew the blood was wrong and I did it anyways. It… it was changing me. Poisoning me.” He looked down at his lap and let out a mirthless huff of laughter. “Hell, Chuck said my eyes turned black in his last vision of me, when I was taking out Lilith. I did that to myself. I ignored everyone’s advice and did what I thought was best, and I screwed up. It doesn’t matter if I was manipulated into it – Lucifer walking the earth, that’s on me, and there’s no way I’m going to be able to make up for that.”

“You’re harder on yourself than anyone I know, and that’s saying something coming from me.” Sighing, Tony shifted his weight around and leaned back against the seat. From the corner of his eye Sam saw the older man cross his legs and start to idly kick his foot. When he spoke again, his voice was low and serious, none of his usual joking present. “I won’t lie to you, Sam. Yeah, you made mistakes. Trusting Ruby? Big mistake. But you had a lot of things that pushed you to make those mistakes. I’m not going to argue the validity of them because I know you can’t see clearly on it right now. We’ll work on that. But you do need to look at this and realize that it’s not all on your shoulders. It’s like I told them back there – yes, you killed Lilith, but that was what everyone wanted to do.”

Though there was a part of Sam that knew those words were true, the rest of him couldn’t so easily dismiss what he knew he’d done wrong. Things just weren’t that simple. They weren’t so black and white. Closing his eyes, he drew in a shaky breath. “I should’ve stayed in the panic room.”

“The panic room?”

The confusion in Tony’s voice reminded Sam that his brother didn’t know about that. In a low, broken whisper, Sam told him about drinking in front of Dean, and what had come after. The hours in the panic room, the forced detox, and then someone springing him magically from the room. “I don’t know who did it. I just know, I was free, and I ran. I… I should’ve stayed.”

He didn’t realize at first just how Tony was reacting to what he was saying. Too focused on his own internal agony, Sam missed the way that Tony had gone still as a statue. Not even his foot was moving anymore. It wasn’t until he heard the man’s sharp “Wait a second” that Sam started to pay attention and realize that maybe this wasn’t the best story to have told. “Are you telling me… your brother locked you in a warded room, _chained you to a bed_ , and then left you _alone_ in there so you could detox?”

Sam looked up to find that Tony’s face was a hard mask. His eyes glittered dangerously as they watched Sam. Swallowing the lump in his throat, the younger man hurried to try and diffuse this before it got too bad. Tony’s protective side could be deadly. “It’s not like you’re thinking, Tone. My powers went insane while I was in there. They were throwing me against the walls and making me seize, and things were shaking. It wouldn’t have been safe for them to be in there.”

“Bullshit. If they were safe enough to go in there and lock you up, they were safe enough to go in there and sit with you for a bit. To give you some common human courtesy.” Tony snapped. “Detox from anything is its own personal hell. Trust me, I know. I’ve done a few rounds with a few things. No one should have to go through it alone. Even I had JARVIS with me.”

Having JARVIS with him wasn’t the same as what Tony was demanding should’ve been given to Sam. He was arguing that Dean and/or Bobby should’ve been in there with him. Real, physical, human people, who could reach out and touch and soothe. JARVIS was just a voice in the air. Even so… Sam couldn’t deny that it would’ve been nice to hear the soft, soothing tones of JARVIS’s voice while he was stuck in his hallucinations.

Their argument was cut off when Tony’s phone rang. He pulled it out and pressed a button, bringing it up to his ear. “What’s up, J?”

A second later his expression was alarmed. Sam was already sitting up even as Tony was ending the call and putting the phone in his pocket, rising quickly while he did. “We need to go.” He grabbed his case and tossed it in the aisle, the thud echoing loudly around them. Sam watched with surprise as he stepped up to it and stepped on it, popping it open before he bent down to grab it. This was the first time that Sam had ever witnessed him getting the suit on without JARVIS there to help him. Seeing it like this, it was amazing. Crazy. Almost enough to distract him from the fact that there was a reason he was putting it on at all.

Then it was on and he was reaching a hand out for Sam. “Come on, we need to move. I had JARVIS using the tablet to monitor the room and the boys are in trouble.”

Sam didn’t hesitate to hurry right to Tony’s side. “What’s going on?”

“Demons.” Tony said shortly. He wrapped an arm around Sam’s waist, tugging him in close. “And JARVIS is pretty sure Bobby’s possessed. Now hang on.”

* * *

Flying back to the motel was a lot faster than walking. Even so, by the time that Sam burst into the room, Iron Man on his heels, Bobby was already on the ground bleeding and Dean was getting his ass handed to him by a demon. Sam’s eyes went wide. “No!”

“Heya, Sammy.” The female stepped forward, smirking at him. “You miss me? Cause I sure missed you!”

It only took a second for Sam to place that voice. “Meg?”

“Enough chit chat.” The robotic sound of Tony’s voice startled Meg. She must not have sensed him. A second later, Tony stepped around Sam and lifted a hand, blasting away the demon that had been wailing on Dean. Then he startled them all by calling out “JARVIS, play it!”

A voice filled the room suddenly, coming from every piece of electronics in the room. “ _Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica, ergo draco maledicte, ut ecclesiam tuam secura, tibi facias libertate servire, te rogamus, audi nos_!”

Sam watched as the two demons were forced out of their vessels and sent straight back to hell. Their bodies dropped down to the ground, the one almost falling on Dean. Any other time and Sam might’ve hurried to go to check on them, or on his brother. However, all he could see was Bobby’s body lying there, the blood pouring from the knife that was sticking out of Bobby’s stomach. Ruby’s knife. Sam rushed forward, dropping down to his knees at Bobby’s side. “How…?”

“He stabbed himself.” Dean said roughly. He was at Sam’s side as well, hand on the hilt of the knife, and despite Tony’s sharp “Don’t!” he still pulled the knife free.

A sharp sound from Tony and heavy footsteps warned them that he was coming. The man bent down, nudging both of them out of the way. “Move. He needs a hospital and I’ll have an easier time carrying him in the suit than either of you will.”

Not even Dean thought to protest. “Go.” The boys said at the same time.

As Tony took off, Bobby held carefully in his arms, Sam and Dean pushed themselves up. They needed to clear out of here. As bad as it was, they had to leave the demon bodies here. Right now they needed to get their bags and get the hell out before someone else came looking to see what was going on. With that in mind, the two quickly gathered up their things and then rushed outside to the Impala. “Where’d he take him?” Dean demanded as they slid inside.

Sam was already on it. He had his phone out, ready to start a search, when JARVIS spoke from the tablet that Sam had grabbed off the bed. “Sir is currently at the hospital two point three miles from your current location. I can direct you there.”

“Thanks, JARVIS.” Sam said lowly.

The car roared to life and the two took off, praying with everything they had that Bobby was going to be okay.

But Dean was already shaking his head. “No. No, we can’t.”

“What do you mean we can’t?”

Dean’s hands clenched tight on the wheel. It was obvious he was fighting what he was about to say, that he hated to say it, but he still spat the words out. “We figured out the sword is in one of Dad’s old storage uints, but that bitch was already possessing Bobby, so now they know where it is, too. We got to get to it before they do, if we're not too late already.”

Dammit! As much as Sam hated it, Dean was right. He was absolutely right. They had to go after the sword and get to it. It was their only chance to win this thing! But… _Bobby_.

As Dean started the car, Sam reached out and lifted up the tablet, pulling it up instinctively so that the camera was facing him as he usually did when talking with Tony. “JARVIS, can you let Tony know what’s going on and ask him to keep an eye on things for me? Just… just ask him to keep Bobby safe for us, please.”

“Of course, Young Sir.” JARVIS reassured him. His voice was steady and sure, a comforting sound that anchored Sam a bit. “Rest assured, Sir is calling out the best surgeons that money can buy to take care of Robert Singer. He will receive the best medical care that Sir can provide.”

A shaky breath slid past Sam’s lips. “Thanks.”

When he looked over at his brother, he saw a hint of relief on Dean’s face that echoed what Sam felt inside. For all that Dean and Tony didn’t seem to get along, it would appear he at least trusted him for this. They were both trusting Tony with Bobby’s care. They had to, so they could focus on getting the Michael sword before it was too late. The demons couldn’t be allowed to have it. They needed to get there first, or else they were all screwed.

* * *

Hours later, the two boys made their way into the hospital where Bobby was being held. Their steps were slower, a bit heavier, and neither one of them was sure what to say or do after all that had happened. So many things had changed inside of that storage unit. It was a lot to process, especially on top of recent events. Neither one of them had said much of anything since they’d left there. The most that they’d spoken was when Sam had asked JARVIS to direct them to the hospital.

Now, as they walked into the room a nurse had pointed them towards, both boys looked towards the bed immediately. Some of their tension drained away as they saw Bobby sitting up there, glaring right at them as they came in. “Well?” He demanded immediately. “Did ya get it?”

The sound of that gruff voice washed over Sam and chased away some of the chill he felt. Though JARVIS had reassured them that Bobby was ‘stable’, he hadn’t quite believed it. Not until now. Now, he could see him, hear him, and it was real. Bobby was okay. Sam would’ve grinned if he wasn’t so tired.

“Not quite.” Dean answered him. He strolled right up to Bobby’s bed and dropped himself down into a chair beside it.

Before he could speak, someone else came through the door, and Sam relaxed a little more at the sight of Tony, whole and healthy. He looked up from the phone he held and beamed at the room. “Oh, hey, the Scooby Gang is back together again. Perfect!” He patted Sam’s arm as he passed him and walked up to Bobby’s bedside. “I’ve got good news and bad news for you, Grumpy Spice. Bad news, you’re not going to be able to do-si-do for a while, and a two-step is a bit out of your league, _but –_ good news – a bit of work and another surgery or two and you should be able to be up and stumbling around within a couple weeks.”

“A couple weeks?” Dean looked at Bobby and then up at Tony. To those that didn’t know him, the relief wouldn’t be easy to spot in his eyes, just the temper. “Right now is a pretty bad time to be benched, Stark.”

Tony turned to Dean and arched an eyebrow. “Oh, excuse me, am I not working miracles fast enough for you?” He rolled his eyes and focused back on Bobby again, ignoring Dean completely. “The doctors said you got that knife in pretty deep. Nicked a few things along the way and did a bit of damage towards your spine. They were able to repair most of it, but there’s a bit that they’re not quite sure about. That’s where I come in. I made a few calls, spoke with some people, and there’s a bit of an experimental procedure they’ve got that should be able to help heal the damage in there.”

“What’re the risks?” Bobby asked.

Dena looked at him with surprise, like he couldn’t quite believe Bobby was considering this. “Bobby! You want to let this guy _experiment on you_?”

The look Bobby gave Dean clearly asked if he was stupid. “I know what spinal damage means, boy. I don’t do this, it’s likely I aint gonna be walking at all.” That said, he turned back to Tony. “Now, what’re the risks?”

Tony closed down whatever he’d been doing on his phone and slid it into his pocket. “Honestly, for you? Nothing. Let me put this bluntly for you, Singer. You seem like a guy who’d appreciate that. If we don’t do this, there’s not a damn thing this hospital or any other hospital can do for you. You’re just not going to walk, plain and simple. This procedure – it’s your only real option. If it doesn’t work, you’re not going to lose your legs or turn into a monster or anything like that. Your chances of walking would just go from 12% down to probably 5%. No real noticeable change. But if it works, you’ll get back at _least_ 77% of your ability to walk, potentially more, and that’s better than none, am I right?”

“What do I gotta do?” Bobby asked, in lieu of answering. There was no doubt as they looked at him that he was going to do this. Not that Sam could blame him. This might very well be his only chance. If it were Sam, he knew he’d take it. But he also knew that he trusted Tony with his life. To see Bobby trust him so easily – well, it was shocking. Sam knew that half of Dean’s trust issues with Tony probably stemmed from the fact that _Sam_ trusted him. He hadn’t exactly proven good at gauging people’s trust so far.

It took a bit for Bobby and Tony to plan things out. At one point, Tony took the Starklet that Sam gave him and pulled up some documents that Bobby had to sign, consent forms. By the time they were done, an hour had passed, and Bobby looked exhausted. Tony, however, was beaming as he put the tablet away. “All right! We should be able to do this here, no problems. I already spoke with the doctor and the team should be here in…” He paused, looking at his watch. “…twenty-seven minutes.”

Everyone stared at him. “How’d you know I’d agree?” Bobby finally asked. Because it was clear that Tony had already laid out plans to do this.

The man grinned and rocked back on his heels. “Early dickishness aside, according to Sam you’re a smart guy. I figured you’d see things my way. Plus, I’ve been told I’m pretty good at getting what I want.”

That made Sam laugh. Talk about an understatement. Tony was always good at finding a way to get what he wanted, even if it didn’t always end up happening right away.

After a second, though, the laughter faded away, and tension crept back into the room. Sam was the one who finally broke the silence that fell over them and drew them back onto the subject. “So what do we do now?”

“Well,” Bobby said slowly. “We save as many as we can for as lnog as we can, I guess. I mean, this is bad. Whoever wins, Heaven or Hell, we’re boned.”

“What if we win?” Dean asked.

All eyes in the room turned towards him. He met their looks with one of his own that was full of a confidence Sam could tell he didn’t quite feel. Yet his voice held conviction when he spoke. “I’m serious. I mean, screw the angels and the demons and their crap apocalypse. Hell, they want to fight a war, they can find their own planet. This one's ours, and I say they get the hell off it. We take 'em all on. We kill the devil. Hell, we even kill Michael if we have to. But we do it our own damn selves.”

Sam and Tony exchanged looks, but it was Bobby who bluntly asked “And how are we supposed to do all this, genius?”

Dean shrugged at him like it was no big deal. “I got no idea.” He admitted easily. “But what I do have is a GED and a give-'em-hell attitude, and I'll figure it out.

“You are nine kinds of crazy, boy.” Bobby said, a hint of a smile touching the edges of his mouth.

“It’s been said.” Dean admitted, shrugging. Then he reached out and patted Bobby’s shoulder. “Listen, you stay here with Hefner over there and let him take care of you. We’ll see you in a bit, all right?”

When Dean started to make his way to the door, gesturing for Sam to follow, a touch to his arm kept the younger Winchester from moving. He turned towards Tony, who was watching him with worried eyes. “I think I’m gonna stay here with Gramps.” Tony said, looking over at Bobby and then back to Sam. His smile gentled a little. “Make sure things go okay, all that good stuff. You know, you could stay, too. Help keep an eye on things. You and the Fonz over there could probably do with a bit of a break from each other.”

“I can’t.” Sam said. As appealing as it sounded, he just, he couldn’t. This was his mess and he had to find a way to fix it.

Tony nodded like he’d expected that. “Offer’s always open, pipsqueak. You need it, you know how to find me.”

A small smile curved Sam’s lips. “Thanks, Tone.” He didn’t mean just for that offer, either. Without Tony, he wasn’t sure how he would’ve made it through the past few days. They’d been tough – so damn tough. Having Tony there by his side had been a huge help.

This brother was just as good as his other at reading the words that Sam couldn’t say. Everything about Tony went soft. “Always.” He murmured. Then he pulled Sam in and gave him a tight hug. “Keep yourself safe, and don’t forget to check in.”

When the two pulled apart, Sam made as if to step away, offering a soft smile to Bobby as he passed, only Bobby held a hand out in a gesture to stop him. “Sam.”

Sam stopped right by the door, right by Dean. He almost wanted to just hurry on out the door before Bobby could speak. If what he was going to say was anything like what he’d said back at the hotel – while possessed – Sam didn’t want to hear it. He didn’t want to hear that the demon had been telling the truth. If that was the case, Sam just wanted to pretend for a little while longer.

The way that Bobby was looking at him held something sad at the edges. “I was awake.” The older man said, surprising Sam a little. “I know what I said back there. I just want you to know that...that was the demon talking. I aint cutting you out, boy. Not ever.”

Relief washed over Sam like a tidal wave. He wanted to reach out and grip hold of the doorframe out of fear that his legs weren’t going to hold him. This wasn’t Bobby saying it was all true – this was him fixing it. He wasn’t going to cut Sam out. “Thanks, Bobby.” Sam croaked. Those words, they meant more to him than anything.

Sam held them close to his heart as they left the hospital. The warmth they’d given him was something he had a feeling he was going to need over the next little while.


	4. Chapter 4

When Sam had turned down Tony’s offer and left him and Bobby in that hospital room, he hadn’t thought that it’d be just a week later he’d be pulling out his phone to make that call. Hell, he hadn’t thought he’d have to make it at all. But after this last hunt, after dealing with War, the things Sam had seen in himself, they weren’t _good_ things. As much as he hated it, the last thing he needed to be doing right now was hunting, and that was exactly what he told his brother. He needed to step back a little and get himself under control again. Work on learning how to fight down the cravings so that he could find a way to focus around them. He didn’t trust himself, and he knew Dean didn’t trust him.

Only, when Sam had suggested a small separation, meaning mostly that he could go back and check on Bobby a bit and get his head together while Dean continued to look around, he’d thought for sure that his brother would lodge some sort of protest. He’d been sure he would. Dean didn’t trust him and letting him alone was the last thing Sam figured he’d want. Besides, their relationship wasn’t so broken that his brother was done caring about him, right? Right?

It looked like he was wrong. Dean had not only agreed with Sam going, he’d been so eager for him to go he’d actually offered to let him take the Impala.

If that wasn’t a sign of how badly he wanted Sam out of there…

So Sam had grabbed his things, hitched a ride from a nearby guy in a truck, and made his way into the closest town. There, he settled down at a diner, ordered a cup of coffee to steady his shaking hands, and he sent off a text to the only person left that he thought might still want him around.

_That offer still open? – SW_

It took not even a minute before he got his reply. As soon as he read it, tension drained out of his shoulders.

_I’m sending the jet. ETA 18 hours. Need me to fly myself out to keep you company till then? – Big T_

Though eighteen hours was a long time, Sam could handle it. He didn’t need Tony to fly out there and hold his hand. Pathetic though he may feel at the moment, he wasn’t _that_ bad.

_I’ll be fine, don’t pull yourself away. I can get a room and wait – SW_

_You act like I won’t be on the jet or something – Big T_

_Idiot – Big T_

Sam read those message with a smile. He sent off a final ‘thanks’ and then turned his focus back to his coffee. The idea that he should get something to eat played briefly in his mind before he pushed it back. Food really, really didn’t sound all that appealing at the moment. Besides, Tony was likely going to try and feed him up no matter how Sam felt about things. There was no real need to worry about it now. Once he got Sam with him, he’d go into full overprotective mode, trying to force Sam to eat and sleep better than he was – despite how much Sam and JARVIS could point out the hypocrisy of it, considering how poor Tony was at taking care of himself. Especially when on a binge in his lab.

The fact that he knew Tony would take care of him was one of the reasons that Sam had called him. Though admitting it made him feel just a little bit weaker, there’d been a big part of him that had wanted Dean to stop him from going. To tell him that he wanted him to stick around. Because if Dean was there, Sam knew there was no way he was going to slip up. With his brother taking care of him like he’d always done, getting past the demon blood and the guilt and everything that was eating Sam alive didn’t seem like such an insurmountable task.

But Dean had let him go. He’d said that he didn’t trust him, that he couldn’t hunt with him while spending the whole time worrying about him, and really – Sam couldn’t blame him. He just, he needed him. He needed someone. Was that really so wrong?

_You should be stronger than this. Strong enough to do this on your own. It’s your mess! You should be out there cleaning it up instead of sitting here whining._

The sharpness of his own thoughts had him wincing. Bowing his head, he closed his eyes and took a shuddering breath.

He should be stronger than this, but he wasn’t. He wasn’t strong enough to do this on his own. Not right now. And he didn’t trust himself to do it, either. But he trusted Tony as much as he’d always trusted Dean in the past. Tony would take him home and keep him safe until Sam could get a handle on these cravings. Once he could square his head away again, maybe then he’d be able to stand up under all of this. He might be able to find a way to solve things and make it all right.

God, he hoped so. Because if he didn’t, the whole world was going to pay for his mistakes.

* * *

It was just a little beyond eighteen hours later when a knock sounded on Sam’s motel room door. He woke from the half doze he’d been in and jerked himself upright. Instinct had him grabbing a gun, though he wasn’t quite sure what good it would do in his shaky hands. Locking himself away in this room hadn’t done anything to take the edge off the craving that had hit on the last hunt at the sight of the demon blood on the knife. Just because Sam had been able to resist didn’t mean that he didn’t _want_.

Luckily for him, it was Tony who was on the other side of the door. _Just_ Tony, too, it looked like. He made it past the salt lines, the devil’s trap that was under the welcome mat outside the door, and the wards on the walls didn’t seem to bother him at all. Sam slumped a little in relief the instant that Tony was inside the room. “You made it.”

“What the hell happened to you?” Tony demanded, marching right up to him. He lifted one of Sam’s arms and slid underneath it like he was actually worried Sam wasn’t going to be able to keep upright on his own. The arm closest to Sam went around his waist while the other one lifted so that he could press his hand against Sam’s cheeks and then his forehead. “Look at you! You’re burning up!”

The warmth of his concern was like a balm on Sam’s soul. _You don’t deserve it_ , his mind tried to whisper to him, but he pushed down that. A tired smile ghosted over his lips. “Hello to you, too, Tone.”

Tony scowled at him. “Don’t you ‘Tone’ me. Come on, grab your things. You’ve probably caught some kind of infection from being in this room. One that I’ve likely got as well now, thank you very much. The air in here tastes like death and the plague with a little bit of ashtray mixed in for good measure. How can you even stand to be in here, let alone _sleep_ in here?”

The familiar prattle rolled over Sam as the two of them moved so that Sam could go and grab the bag he hadn’t unpacked. He slipped is gun inside – he wasn’t going to need it now, hopefully – and then picked his bag up in his free hand. His other one was holding on to Tony, since it seemed his brother wasn’t willing to let go of him quite yet. “I can walk.” Sam felt the need to point out as they made their way out of the room.

Tony rolled his eyes at him. “Yes, yes, you’re a talented little puppy.” Reaching up, he patted Sam’s chest. “Good for you. Now, let’s get your bag in the car and you can give the driver your key, they’ll go run it in to the front desk for you. Come on now, puppy, in the car, that’s it. We’re getting you out of here.”

As Sam found himself settled into the backseat, his bag on the floor and his room key given to their driver, and Tony sank in beside him still chattering away, the younger man let his eyes close and just drifted for a moment on the peace and surety that came with being here. He was okay. He was safe. Tony was going to take care of him. Right now, that was all that mattered. The rest would still be waiting there when he woke back up.

The last thing he felt before he fell asleep was a hand smoothing over his forehead.

* * *

Sam woke briefly when they pulled up at the airport. Tony was there, gently coaxing Sam out of the car and steering him towards the plane, helping him the whole way. At some point Sam was pretty sure someone else tried to come help him, only for Tony to tell them “No, no, I got him. He’s fine.” Then they were moving up some stairs and onto what had to be Tony’s jet. Sam tried to stir himself, to make himself focus enough to really pay attention, because he was on _Tony Stark’s personal jet_ and, knowing him, that had to be pretty awesome.

However, he just couldn’t seem to manage it. His eyes didn’t want to open all the way and he found he had to focus on his feet if he didn’t want to trip.

Tony, thank God for him, just kept leading Sam steadily forward. “This way, kid.” He murmured, steering Sam towards… something. When they reached the edge, he carefully helped Sam to sit down on it, then to lay down. As he squatted down and lifted Sam’s legs, he mock grumbled at him. “You’re lucky I’m getting in better shape with the whole Iron Man thing. You’re not as much of a pipsqueak as you used to be.”

“’m sorry.” Sam mumbled.

Whatever he was lying on was soft, so soft, and extremely comfortable. He sighed happily as he stretched himself out on it and found that there was plenty of room for his long legs.

A blanket settled over him, smelling faintly like bourbon and cologne – it brought to mind images of Tony in a suit, on his way to or from a party – and then the space near his head shifted a little. When he cracked his eyes open, he realized that he was lying on some sort of couch on the jet, and Tony had sat down near his head.

Sam didn’t think about what he did next. Tired, aching, with his walls lower than normal, he just reacted to the presence of someone he trusted so much. As he’d done so many times with Dean as a kid or even as a teenager, Sam rolled himself so that he was facing the back of the couch, and he pushed himself up just enough that he could slide and drop his head right in Tony’s lap. His cheek landed on the older man’s thigh and he was able to snuggle forward, burying his face against Tony’s hip. One hand clutched the blanket close while the other slid up to catch the bottom of Tony’s shirt, twisting the expensive fabric in his fist.

He felt Tony go completely still for one long beat. Long enough that Sam started to stir, wondering if he’d made some sort of mistake. Then he felt it – a hesitant hand laying gently in his hair. It sat there for a moment and then started to slowly stroke at his hair, seeming unsure. It wasn’t until Sam sighed happily at the touch that Tony’s hand became a little more sure. He carded his fingers through Sam’s hair in nice slow, soothing strokes that soothed him back down towards sleep. “Ah, puppy.” Tony’s voice sounded low and a bit sad. “What am I going to do with you?”

Sam didn’t answer. He was already fast asleep by the time Tony finished his question.


	5. Chapter 5

Sam slept away most of the ride to Tony’s place. His exhausted body finally had had too much and it took the rest it needed now that his brain was able to relax a little, comfortable in a place he knew he was safe. When he woke up, he was confused for a moment about where he was and what was going on. Then he felt the fingers tugging through his hair and he drew in that smell of bourbon and cologne again, this time with an added scent of – was that engine oil?

Blinking open his eyes, the first thing Sam saw was a grey cotton shirt. He didn’t have to look up to know who he was with, though. Sam let out a low murmur and arched his head up just a little to push against the hand that was stroking his hair. He was rewarded with a chuckle that had his lips twitching. “You’re living up to your nickname there, puppy.” Tony teased him.

If this were any other person, Sam would’ve probably been embarrassed. Even Dean. Dean never had trouble doing these kinds of things – even now, while he was older, though it was only really acceptable if he was sick or injured – but he was the type of person to not want to talk about it afterwards. To get up once he knew Sam was up, or to act as if he wasn’t still letting his brother snuggle him. Sam had gotten good at pretending to still be asleep so Dean wouldn’t move him. Or, well, he’d tried to pretend. Likely Dean had just let him.

Tony, however, jumped right into teasing him, yet he never stopped the stroking at Sam’s hair, and he didn’t try to make him move. In fact, when Sam sighed and made as if to shift away, Tony tugged on his hair and kept his head against his leg. “You’re fine. When was the last time you slept, kiddo? The bags under your eyes have bags.”

There was open concern in Tony’s eyes. His eyebrows had drawn down, making a little furrow between them, and were there more lines at the corners of his eyes than there had been before? Tony was thirty-nine now, he realized. _I didn’t get him anything for his birthday._ That seemed like a silly thought to have compared to everything else that was going on, yet it stuck there. He hadn’t gotten Tony anything this year. He’d have to find a way to remedy that.

He realized abruptly that he hadn’t exactly answered Tony’s question. Though, his silence seemed to be answer enough. The lines on Tony’s face deepened a little, just for a moment, and he smoothed back some of Sam’s hair off his forehead. “Sam,” His tone was serious, no sign of teasing in sight. “What happened?”

“I’m… struggling.” It didn’t seem so bad to say it here, to Tony. “I don’t… I don’t trust myself out there. Not yet. I just, I need time to get my head on straight. Right now I’d just be a liability during a hunt.”

“And what’d Oscar the Grouch have to say about that?”

The grimace on Sam’s face was answer enough. He saw the storm clouds building in Tony’s eyes and hurried to cut them off. “It’s fine, Tony. It’s _fine_. Whether you agree with it or not, he’s got a right to be upset with me. I did a lot to him this past year…”

“ _You_ did a lot to _him_? What about what _he’s_ done to _you_? Him and his stupid angel buddies!”

“…and he’s got every right to his temper. I don’t blame him for it.” Sam continued, ignoring Tony’s protests. It was true, too. He didn’t blame Dean for his temper. He just… he wished it didn’t feel so much like he was losing his brother. Closing his eyes, Sam tried to sigh away his tension and find some of the peace that he’d had just moments before. It helped when Tony started to pet at his hair once more. “Can we just – can we not fight about this? Please?” He was so tired of fighting.

The leg under his head shifted around a bit as Tony shuffled in his seat. It was a nervous gesture. Likely, he was wanting to lift one leg to cross over the other, something he did when he was uncomfortable or thinking. It was a way of leaning back and distancing himself from others while giving him an outlet for the energy he always had going. But when Sam tried to move again, he was once more stopped by Tony’s hand in his hair keeping him firmly in place. When Sam looked up at the man’s face again, he found that whatever shadows had been there before were gone. Tony was smirking down at him in a familiar, very amused way. “Did I tell you Pepper’s living with me, now? I probably didn’t. That means you can’t keep putting off meeting her anymore.”

As far as topic changes went, it wasn’t his best effort, but Sam smiled at him nonetheless. “I look forward to it. What does she know, exactly?”

“Oh, pretty much everything. JARVIS and I walked her through the pertinent stuff.”

Sam was grateful for that. He really didn’t want to have the whole ‘monsters/angels/demons are real’ conversation. “Good. Did you put up that new warding I sent over?”

“Sure did! Ooh, and wait till you see what old man Singer sent my way.”

Hearing his name reminded Sam of the fact that he hadn’t thought to check in with Bobby again, or to ask Tony how things were going. His expression must’ve showed something because Tony grinned at him and spoke before Sam could get a word out. “He’s doing good. I know you guys stopped in and saw him before your last case, but he was still recovering then. The doctors went ahead and sent him home yesterday, hence why I was back home. I made sure he got settled in before I came back. Left him with a few gifts, too. A new computer instead of that ancient piece of crap he had there. I uploaded some of my best voice command software, too, so he shouldn’t have to worry about dealing with typing or anything those old people like to complain about. I even set it up so he can call up JARVIS and I if he’s got a question or needs something. In exchange, he gave me a whole new set of wards to put around my places. I’m thinking of building them into my new Stark Tower so they’ll be right in the framework…”

The flow of Tony’s words washed over Sam and he couldn’t stop himself from smiling at it. Listening to Tony ramble on was familiar and easy to him, and it let him relax once more, pushing back all the other thoughts that wanted to slip in.

* * *

By the time they finally made it back to Tony’s Malibu home, Sam was more than sure that he’d made the right choice in coming out here. If he wasn’t going to be hunting with Dean for now, being here with Tony was definitely the best thing for him. Walking through the front doors of the house had a tension Sam hadn’t even noticed draining out of his shoulders.

There was barely a moment for Sam to take note of the beautiful redheaded woman, dressed in a flattering black skirt and white button up shirt, who started to rise from the couch before Tony was grabbing Sam’s arm and yanking him forward, already happily calling out “Pep! Look what I brought home.” He tugged Sam forward, completely ignoring the slight blush to Sam’s cheeks, and he beamed at his girlfriend. “Can we keep him? He’s mostly housebroken. He won’t pee on the furniture and I promise, he doesn’t bite. Not unless you tell him to.”

Sam sent him a scowl over his shoulder. “Tony!”

His brother sent him a faux-innocent look. “What? There’s no kink shaming in this house, kiddo. You know that! To each their own.” He lifted a finger and wagged it at Sam. “There’s nothing wrong with liking what you like. Haven’t we had this talk?”

For a brief moment Sam’s mind flashed back to different, darker memories of broken down motel rooms and Ruby over top of him. How she’d keep him pinned down, taking away the control he had to be truly comfortable with a partner to be able to give up. How he didn’t even care, because she kept her arms so close, that hint of blood under her skin driving him mad until he was almost salivating for it. Shuddering, he forced those thoughts back, focusing instead on the second half of what Tony had said. As soon as he did he grimaced. “Yes, we have.” And it was a talk he never, ever wanted to have again. It’d been worse than Dean giving him the sex talk as a teenager. Learning about sex from your brother was one thing. Learning about the wide world of kink and what were important rules to remember, while a useful lesson, was about twenty times worse.

Tony’s grin showed he understood exactly what Sam was thinking about there. He’d caught the darker thoughts starting to build, but he also saw Sam push himself up from it, and he didn’t press. “Hey, I was just looking out for you. I mean, someone has to make sure you were playing it safe out there.” Turning to Pepper, he jerked a thumb back at Sam. “He was in his second year at Stanford and…”

In an instant Sam was on Tony, leaning around the man’s back to wrap one hand over his mouth. He felt Tony laughing and quickly tried to grab the hands that reached up to pull his away. They probably looked completely ridiculous to Pepper as they struggled. By the time Tony finally stopped struggling, Sam had to uncover his mouth because the both of them were laughing too hard. A warmth that Sam hadn’t realized had been missing was filling him and it showed on his face as he pretended to glare at Tony. “You’re such an ass.” Still chuckling, he turned towards Pepper and put on his most charming smile, the one that he used when speaking with witnesses on a case, and he held out his hand. “My apologies for my behavior, ma’am. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He flashed his dimples and couldn’t resist adding on “I’d apologize for him, but if you’re living with him it’s a little late for that. I should probably offer my condolences instead.”

Pepper laughed, low and warm, and Sam decided instantly that he liked the sound. The two of them ignored Tony’s spluttering at Sam’s words. They shook hands, and then Pepper surprised him by pulling him in for a hug. “Please, Sam, you’re family. Call me Pepper.”

He was blushing a little when they pulled back. “I will.”

“Might I add in my own welcome home, young sir.” JARVIS chimed in. “It’s a pleasure having you back.”

The way that JARVIS so easily called this Sam’s home tugged at his heart. This _was_ home, he realized. The house, yeah, definitely. It felt like home. But for Sam, having grown up on the road, home had always been a more fluid concept to him. It’d always been people, not places, and it was amazing to realize that he was blessed enough to have multiple homes. Not just with Dean anymore, but with Tony as well. “It’s good to be home, JARVIS.”

Pepper moved up to Sam’s side and threaded her hand through his arm. “Come on, Sam. I went ahead and ordered dinner once Tony let me know you guys were close. I hope you like Mongolian.”

“I do.” Sam said. He let Pepper tug him forward, casting a quick look back to Tony, who was grinning and following behind them. The man seemed more than thrilled to see them walking and talking together. Sam supposed he could understand why. It was the first time that there’d been someone important enough in Tony’s life for him not only bother explaining who Sam was, but to also bring them together and introduce them.

She was important to Tony, and that was reason enough for Sam to want to make a good impression. That in mind, he tried to be on his best behavior as she escorted him to the dining room. Some of his worries vanished when she tilted her head up towards him and flashed him a grin that carried some of the same mischievousness that Tony could have. “While we’re eating, why don’t you share some stories about Tony? I’d love to know what he was like back then.”

“ _Well_ ,” Sam drew the word out, his own smile growing in response to hers. “I’m sure I could come up with a story or two.”

* * *

He came up with more than just a few stories. By the time their dinner was done and they’d migrated back out to the living room to have some amazingly good hot chocolate that Pepper had made for them. Sam found himself a lot more comfortable than he’d been in a long time. No one here was glaring at him, none of them wanted anything from him. They didn’t expect him to do anything, and they weren’t watching to make sure that he didn’t go doing something stupid. There was no apocalypse talk –he tried not to let himself feel guilty over that – and what little talk there was of hunting consisted of stories from an easier, better time.

No one even commented on the way that Sam’s hands still shook a little. There’d been a hint of concern in Tony’s eyes when Sam hadn’t eaten much, yeah, but that’s all it had been. Nothing more than that.

It left Sam relaxed and easy by the time that Tony suggested it was time for ‘all little puppies’ to find their beds. Sam rolled his eyes, though he smiled, able to read the caring underneath the words. He bid Pepper goodnight, getting another kiss on the cheek that made him blush all over again, and then he and Tony were making their way down to the room that had been clearly labeled as Sam’s. He’d even left stuff here the last few times he’d been here. There were some extra clothes in the closet and the dresser – usually, a few extra ones were in there that he knew _he_ hadn’t bought. He never called Tony out on the gift-giving, though. It was the way that Tony was most comfortable showing affection. He understood how uncomfortable Sam could be with it, just as Sam understood that it was just what Tony did, and so they compromised. Tony was free to buy him stuff, so long as it was in small doses at a time, and Sam would keep his complaints about the price to himself. It helped that Tony never left a price tag on anything.

As Sam tossed his bag down onto the chair against the wall, right by the desk that he was absolutely in love with, with its view straight out to the water, Tony leaned against the doorframe and watched him. There was a smile on his oldest brother’s lips that was little, yet genuine. “Well I’d say you made a good impression on Pep. If I’m not careful, she might try to adopt you right out from under my feet.”

“She’s nice.” Sam sat down on the edge of the bed, making a happy sound at the softness under him. He could sleep on the crappiest of mattresses without an issues, yet he wouldn’t deny there was something amazing about the enormous mattress he had here. When Tony had first showed him the room, Sam had been amazed that there was a mattress that was long enough for him. It was also wide enough for at _least_ three or four of him. Sam let himself sink down into it now as he smiled up at Tony. “I like her, Tone. You guys seem like you’re good for each other.”

“She’s amazing.”

There was nothing but love on Tony’s face. It was good to see it there, though Sam couldn’t help worrying just a little. Tony wasn’t the type to do things halfway. Even if people didn’t realize, he loved with his whole heart. If anything happened between him and Pepper, it’d break him. And Sam wasn’t sure yet about her. She was a wonderful woman, that much was clear, and he could easily see how much she cared about Tony. She knew what he was like, too, having been his PA for a while now. But knowing that and then _dating_ that were two entirely different things. Only time would tell how she’d be able to cope with it all.

“You look like you’re going to fall asleep sitting up.” Tony said, breaking in to Sam’s thoughts. “Get some sleep, Sam. You look like you need it.”

Sam smiled. “You too, Tony. Don’t stay up too late.”

The man sketched a lazy one-fingered salute before he left, leaving Sam chuckling behind him.

Once Sam took the time to brush his teeth in his private bathroom, and change into his usual pajama clothes, he really was more than ready for some sleep despite his earlier nap. He shut the door to his room and laid down in the middle of his comfortable bed. As soon as he did, JARVIS slowly dimmed down the lights until only the light from the moon lit up his room. “Good night, young sir.”

“Night, J.” Sam mumbled back.

Tucked into his big bed, Sam tried not to think about how empty the room felt, or how sore his body was. He closed his eyes and hoped that tonight he might be able to get some sleep without nightmares for once.


	6. Chapter 6

Staying at Tony’s was proving to be the exact break that Sam needed. Though there was absolutely nothing that could chase away the guilt or the pain that he still felt inside, being there with someone he knew loved him and didn’t judge him, it gave Sam a chance to find some sort of sense of himself again. To find the center of himself and ground on it, grasp hold of that steadiness that had gotten him through everything that life had thrown at him so far.

No one here let him mope, nor did they let him spend the whole time locked inside of himself. JARVIS was there at night to talk to Sam when he was having a nightmare. The AI had no issue talking with Sam for however long it took to calm him down after a nightmare. He became an amazing sounding board. With him, Sam found that he could talk about pretty much anything and get a mostly unbiased opinion on events. Mostly, at least. No matter what JARVIS might have to say about himself, he had emotions, at least to an extent, and those emotions were strongly protective about those he cared about. He had a tendency to fall on Sam’s side in stories, though he wasn’t afraid of telling him when an action was stupid.

Pepper was surprisingly good at keeping Sam from moping. She drew him out into the house, getting him to tell her stories or telling stories of her own in return. She also seemed to be taking it upon herself to teach him how to cook. Apparently “You two are abysmal, and I’ve failed so far at teaching Tony any kind of cooking. According to him, you’re already not half bad. Let’s see if we can teach you a bit more.”

For the most part, Sam loved it. He liked being able to do something, he had always loved to learn new things, and Pepper was just genuinely nice to be around.

By far and above, though, his favorite parts of the day were spent down with Tony in his lab.

The man never had any issues explaining to Sam what it was he was doing. He could even dumb it down enough that Sam could understand him, though as the years had gone by Sam was starting to remember more and more of what Tony told him and required less and less explanations. But he walked Sam through the suits, showed him how they were made and what he was doing to improve on them. He even showed him how he’d worked a ton of protective sigils into them to try and help keep them safe from the supernatural. There was real silver and iron on each suit, sigils were hidden all over it, and he’d even made sure some of his weapons were stocked with silver bullets. “Just in case”, he said. Seeing it amazed Sam.

They also worked on how to help ward the new Stark Tower that Tony was preparing to build in New York. He wasn’t kidding when he’d said that he wanted Sam’s input on that. They poured over blueprints for hours on end and even pulled up amazing holographic representations of the building. Tony had the building already mostly designed, he just wanted Sam’s input on how to protect it, how to ward it – and then, apparently, on what he wanted _his floor to look like._

“My _floor_?” Sam repeated when Tony asked him. “What are you talking about?”

Tony gave him a look that said clearly that he was being stupid. “What, did you think you’d sleep on my couch? Really, puppy, I love you and all, but as much as I call you ‘puppy’, you are not actually one.”

A smile curved Sam’s lips. He knew Tony-speak well enough to know what Tony really meant here. Still, he couldn’t help but shake his head. “A room would be fine, you know. I don’t need a whole floor.”

“I’ll decide what’s needed in my own tower, thank you very much. Now shut up and help me pick, or I’m decorating it like some giant lavish doghouse, and you’re going to be stuck with it.”

That was how the two ended up decorating an entire floor just for Sam. Well, for Sam _and_ Dean, because Sam wanted his brother to at least be comfortable if he could ever convince him to go there one day. If they ever made it past the apocalypse, Sam promised himself that he was going to get Dean and Tony together and make them talk, because he was sure that they’d get along if they just spent some time together. Sure, they’d fought so far, but that was mostly because they were way too much alike. Sam had every hope they’d find some common ground at some point and at least manage to be civil. Just because they didn’t get along didn’t mean that Sam was willing to cut either of them out of his life. They were going to have to get used to each other.

Pepper often came and dragged the two of them out of the labs after she’d decided that they’d been in there ‘too long’. She found their plotting amusing and their work together ‘slightly frightening’, though Sam wasn’t quite sure why. It might’ve had something to do with the way that Sam had been laughing when she’d come in, or the manic light in Tony’s eyes.

Underneath all the caring that was surrounding him, though, Sam never once forgot what was going on. Nor did he stop his research.

But it was a little over a month after he’d first showed up when something happened that told him his time hiding away had come to an end.

The wake-up call came in the form of a dream.

* * *

The force with which Sam shot out of his dream was enough to almost propel him out of bed. Just barely did he manage to catch himself in his blankets. His heart was pounding and his whole body felt like it was trembling. There was a creeping nausea that was working its way up his stomach, towards his throat, and the kind of terror that stole your breath away.

“It is eleven fifty two in the evening.” A warm, familiar voice said, startling Sam and making him jump once more. “You are safe, young sir, as are Sir and Ms. Potts. None of the wards have been breached, nor has there been any attempts against them. The security system is still active…” JARVIS. That was JARVIS, running through his usual wake up spiel for Sam, letting him know that everyone was accounted for and that they were safe. It was a good way to help Sam start to calm down after a nightmare. At least, it was at any other time. Right at the moment Sam didn’t think there was anything that could calm him down.

One thing popped into his mind and, much as he hated the weakness it implied, Sam wanted it desperately. But he couldn’t. He just… no, he couldn’t. Not after this. “J-J-J…” Sam shook, trying to find a way to get the word out, only he couldn’t make his throat work. If he did, he knew for sure he was going to throw up, and he didn’t want to.

It was like Heaven to his ears when he heard JARVIS calmly saying “Sir is on his way.” Yet at the same time, Sam wanted to shake his head, to say no, to tell JARVIS not to send him. How could he tell Tony this? How was he going to tell him that he was, that he was… oh _God_. The control Sam had over his stomach was quickly vanishing. He tried to scramble towards the edge of the ridiculously massive bed. He’d almost reached it when his door snapped open and Tony came rushing in wearing nothing more than a pair of pajama pants and a tank top.

The man took one look at Sam’s face and let out an impressive stream of curses. In a flash he had the wastebasket and was there at the edge of the bed, shoving it under Sam’s face. Sam caught it gratefully and curled himself over it as he finally lost the battle with his tender stomach.

One of Tony’s hands gathered Sam’s hair back from his face for him and the other rubbed soothingly over his back. “Don’t fight it.” He advised Sam. “Trust me, it never works. Better to just let it all out. You’ll feel better afterwards.”

He really doubted that. Nothing was going to make him feel better right now. Nothing. Still, he let it all out until there was nothing left in his body to give.

When it was obvious he was done, Tony let go of him and pried the bucket out of Sam’s hands. “Here, give it over.”

“S-S-sorry…” Sam stammered out, his aching throat still not wanting to work right.

Through bleary eyes he watched as Tony waved him off and made his way over to his private bathroom. “Consider it me paying you back for all the times you cleaned up after my drunk ass.” He called out. There was the sound of a toilet flushing and then running water for a few minutes before Tony came back out with a glass of water in hand and the bucket nowhere in sight. He brought the water over to Sam and sat down next to him on the bed. “Here, small sips or else it’ll come right back up.”

Neither one of them commented on the way Sam’s hand shook as he reached out for the glass. A few careful sips later and Sam had to admit that his stomach did feel a little better. The rest of him, however – he shivered.

“Nightmare?” Tony asked, voice gentle. He’d dropped himself down to rest on his side, his hand propping his head up and his other arm bent in a little. Minimizing the pressure on the arc reactor, Sam knew. He couldn’t bend or lay certain ways anymore without it making it harder for him to breathe. They’d worked out a few things the last time Sam was here to help him make sure he could move and lay comfortably.

Sam shook his head as he reached out and set the glass down on the nightstand by the bed. Then he drew himself back in and, after a moment of hesitation, laid himself down as well. It felt stupid to be lying here like teenagers sharing secrets in the dark. Somehow it made it a bit easier to talk, though. Or that could’ve just been the company. “Not quite.” With a shaky breath, Sam closed his eyes and gathered strength, and then opened them again so that he was looking right at Tony as he said “Lucifer was in my dreams.”

Tony’s eyebrows shot up. “Somehow I get the feeling you don’t mean your average bad dream about the devil.”

Another tremor ran through Sam as he shook his head. “He, wanted to speak with me.” When Sam closed his eyes all he could see was that face, that sweet face, and his stomach twisted a little while his eyes shot back open. “He tried to look like Jess.”

“Wow. Dick move.”

That startled a weak laugh from Sam. Yeah, that was one way of putting it.

“So, what’d he want? Just to – chat?” Tony asked.

Sam shook his head. He didn’t want to have to say this. He didn’t want to admit it. Admitting it felt like he was admitting things about himself he really didn’t want to. Things that he didn’t want to say to Tony – that he didn’t want Tony to see. But he wasn’t going to lie to him. Tony was here, and he’d stayed by Sam through so much else. Maybe he’d stay here for this, too. “He said… he said I’m his vessel.” Sam said softly. His eyes were wide open as he did it and he carefully watched Tony’s face the entire time. Because of that, he saw it as Tony just nodded, not looking the least bit surprised. It had Sam’s eyebrows shooting up. “You knew?”

“Guessed.” Grimacing, Tony shifted himself a little, his free hand coming to rub at his chest. “It made sense, seeing as Dean is Michael’s vessel. The story’s all about two brothers, right? Big brother, little brother. You guys and your lives parallel in a kind of frightening way.”

That wasn’t something that Sam wanted to think about _at all_ thank you very much. Unfortunately, there wasn’t really much better to think about. The words that Lucifer had said to him kept ringing in his ears. “He was so nice.” He didn’t realize he was going to say the words until they were out. Yet, they were true. “He was… he was like what I thought angels would be like. Gentle, soft-spoken. Certain. Sympathetic. Like he, like he _cared._ ” Sam let out a bitter laugh and rolled on to his back so that he was staring up at the ceiling. “What does it say about me that the devil is the one angel to show me he cares?”

“It doesn’t say anything about you.” Tony immediately told him. “But it sure says a lot about the rest of them.”

Sighing, Sam lifted a hand and rubbed at his face. “I’m not going to be able to hide out here anymore, Tone. He’s going to be looking for me. The last thing I want to do is lead him here. I need to…” He paused, knowing how well this next part was going to go, with _either_ brother. “I need to call Dean.”

“How did I know you were going to say that?” Tony sounded utterly disgusted. He also sounded resigned. “Are you willing to wait for a more reasonable hour, or are you going to be ridiculous and do it now?” One look at Sam’s face gave him the answer to that. “Right, forgot who I was talking to. If I didn’t think you’d just sit in here and stew and freak out all night long, I’d have JARVIS block you from making any calls. J, let’s get this done. Call Tweedle-Dum.”

Sam’s eyebrows shot up. He thought about telling Tony that he didn’t have to be in here for this, or that he was fully capable of making a phone call all no his own. After a second, he decided against it. “Just keep quiet.” He murmured instead. “He’ll react better if he doesn’t know you’re here.”

With one hand Tony mimed zipping his lips. The two settled down into the bed as the sound of a phone ringing filled the air. A second later, Dean’s voice came through as if he were standing right there with them.  “ _Dammit, Cas, I need to sleep!”_

Taking a deep breath, Sam gathered up what courage he had. _No more running. No more hiding. It’s time to step up and solve my problems instead of trying to avoid them. It’s time to grow up._ “Dean? It’s me…”


	7. Chapter 7

Tony was glad that he’d stayed with Sam while he called his brother. There was no way that Sam would’ve told him everything about that conversation. Absolutely no way. He was too protective of Dean, and he already knew that Tony didn’t have the best opinion of the man. He’d threatened to deck the guy before. And there were definitely parts of this call that had Tony wanting to go out there and wring the other Winchester’s neck. Seriously – who tells their brother to ‘pick a hemisphere’? Seeing the devastation on Sam’s face that was carefully hidden from his voice was something Tony wasn’t going to easily forget _or_ forgive.

Oh, sure, he knew that there had to be good things about Dean Winchester. There had to be if he inspired such loyalty in Sam. Plus, Sam was happy to tell any of the stories that painted Dean in a really good light. He wanted Dean and Tony to like one another, so Tony tried, he really did, to find something in the guy to like. But all the good stories in the world weren’t enough to outweigh the bad ones. They weren’t enough to erase that broken look from Sam’s face. They certainly weren’t enough to erase the feel of Sam’s trembles and the utterly exhausted and defeated look to his entire being when he’d crashed on Tony’s lap on the plane, or last night when he’d ended up sitting against the headboard of Sam’s bed and smacking his forehead to shut him up before he started to stroke at his hair again until he’d soothed the kid back to sleep. Neither one of them had commented on the moisture on Sam’s lashes. But Tony noticed, and he didn’t forget.

All of that made it hard as hell when Sam came out the next morning and told Tony and Pepper how Dean had called, how he’d asked for Sam to _come back_ , and it ripped Tony apart to see how hesitantly hopeful Sam looked. How eager he was to get back some part of his brother. Tony wanted to demand what he thought he was doing here. Why the hell was he going running just because Dean had called? Saying he wanted him back this morning shouldn’t erase the giant dick he’d been last night!

Saying those things would get them nowhere, though. Tony grit his teeth and pasted on a smile that he knew these two people above any others would be able to see through. “You know we’ll support you in whatever you want to do, Sam. This is what you want, right? Because it totally doesn’t have to be. You’re more than welcome to stay here with me until I get the Tower built and then we can go and stay there under the best protection money can offer while we figure things out. I’m sure between our brains we’d be able to come up with something for all this.”

Sam’s expression softened into that look that gentle look he got sometimes when he was watching Tony. The one that he probably thought he hid but didn’t. It was the one that made Tony really feel like a big brother, one who was a bit idolized by his pesky kid brother, and it always made him feel like squaring his shoulders and lifting his chin up with pride while also ducking down in embarrassment. No one had ever looked up to him like that except Sam.

“I appreciate it, Tone. I really do.” Sam said, smiling. “But I… I need to try this, all right? I need to give it a shot.”

Tony rolled his eyes and hid his frown behind a cup of coffee. “Fine. But you better call and check in every day with me or JARVIS.”

“Okay.” Sam agreed easily.

“And if you don’t, I reserve the right to fly out and find your ass no matter where you are.”

A hint of a smile ghosted over Sam’s lips. “Got it, Tony.”

“And make sure you don’t take any of his crap.” Tony couldn’t help but add. “Brother or not, don’t put up with his bullshit. You’ve made mistakes, sure, but so has he. You’re not the only one responsible, and you’re not just some little kid he can punish for their mistakes. You’re an adult who’s working to make things right. If he can’t respect that, screw him. Bring your ass right back here and we’ll take care of things.”

That soft look Sam wore went even softer. He did that thing that he always did when nervous or emotional and unsure what to do with it – he started to rub his palms against his pant legs and he ducked his head down just a bit, that shaggy hair falling into his face. Tony watched him fumble for words for a minute before he let out a gusty sigh. Then he set his mug down on the counter and stepped out around the side of it, opening his arms up wide. “Oh get over here and hug me, you emotionally stunted idiot.”

Sam didn’t even hesitate. He closed the distance between them quickly and wrapped Tony up in his rather enormous hug. Though Tony wasn’t ever going to admit it to anyone, he always did enjoy Sam’s hugs. The guy was big enough he had a way of making you feel wrapped up and safe from anything.

“Like you have room to talk.” Sam mumbled against his hair. His voice was a bit heavier with emotion, though.

Tony grinned as they pulled apart. “I never claimed to be emotionally healthy. How do you think I recognize it in him?”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Aw, puppy, I’ll miss you too.” Reaching up, he pet Sam’s hair, earning him both a laugh and a scowl from the kid that had Tony laughing as well.

It wasn’t easy to watch Sam pack up to leave them. Even Pepper had a bit of a hard time of it. She hugged him a bunch and made sure that he had plenty of food for the road. For his part, Tony made sure Sam was well stocked, weapons clean and in good condition, ammo all ready to go, and clean clothes in his bag as well as a new round of electronics. Laptop, phone, tablet, the works. Then he had a sort-of junker of a car brought to the house despite Sam’s protests. If he and Dean were going to be meeting up somewhere and Sam didn’t want to fly out there, Tony was at least going to make sure he didn’t have to steal a car and run the risk of it breaking down on him.

“Don’t do anything stupid.” Tony told Sam as he watched the kid toss his bag in the backseat. Crossing his arms over his chest, Tony fought against the urge to grab the bag and yank it right back out.

Sam turned his head as he straightened up and grinned at him. “This, coming from you?”

“Yeah, well, who ever said I was role model material?”

The edges of Sam’s smile softened just enough to make his grin more affectionate than anything else. “I’ll do my best, Tony. I can’t promise I’ll always be okay, but I can promise I’ll do my best.”

Tony huffed out an annoyed breath. “I guess that’ll have to do. I’ll be checking in on you, though! Grandpa’s gonna keep me updated, too, so don’t you’ll get away with not contacting me. I wasn’t kidding about the whole ‘hunting you down’ thing. And trust me – there’s nowhere on this planet you can hide from me or JARVIS.”

“You got it. But remember, the same thing goes for you.” Sam lifted a hand and pointed a finger at him, one eyebrow arching up over those amused hazel eyes. “Stay out of trouble. And if I don’t hear from you or JARVIS, I’m going to come and hunt _you_ down. Got it?”

“Got it, puppy.”

The two shared one last serious look before they broke it by chuckling. Then Sam was striding forward and Tony was wrapped up again in one of Sam’s hugs. If Tony hung on a little tighter than normal, well, neither one of them mentioned it. They just stood there and held on to each other for a little bit until there was a risk of things starting to get just a bit awkward. Only then did they pat each other’s backs and pull away.

Tony felt like a bit of an idiot as he stood there on his porch and watched Sam drive away. He stayed there until the car was completely out of sight. All the while, he had to fight back the urge to put on the suit and follow him, not only to make sure that he made his way to Dean okay but that, once he was there, Dean knew beyond a shadow of a doubt what would happen to him if he let something happen to Sam. It wasn’t getting any easier to sit back and watch Sam march off to go and fight against things that Tony knew he couldn’t really help with.

The enemies kept getting stronger, too. Bigger and stronger and deadlier. First it was monsters, and then Yellow Eyes, and then hordes of demons coming through the Hellgate, and angels coming down to earth, and now _Lucifer and Michael_ and the damned Apocalypse. How was Tony supposed to help him with all this? How as he supposed to look out for the kid?

He was still standing there when Pepper came out a little while later. She leaned up against his side and he instinctively wrapped his arm around her so that it was easier for her to fit against his side. “He’ll be all right.”

“Of course he will.” Tony said. He just wished he believed it.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! I had a hard time figuring this out for some reason.

Sam kept to his word and he kept in contact with Tony each and every day after he left. Sometimes it was brief, sometimes even just a text, and other times they’d sit and talk together while Dean was ‘out’. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what ‘out’ meant, but Tony held his tongue. He wasn’t going to be the dick who badmouthed Dean over and over and put Sam in that awkward position. They just avoided talking about him for the most part and Tony kept his opinions to himself on the little things that he did get to hear about the man.

There was a series of amused texts after Sam’s first case back, which dealt with people’s idols killing one another. Tony got in trouble with Pepper for laughing his way through the board meeting. Though she laughed as well when she read the texts about Ghandi beating up Sam, or Dean getting his ass kicked by _Paris Hilton_.

Hearing about the cambion, Jesse, came as a phone call. One where it sounded like Sam was almost completely drunk.

The next case he heard about had Tony alternating between laughing and feeling a bit sorry for Sam. A ‘Supernatural’ convention, really? Sure, Tony knew plenty about fandoms and things like that, and about cosplay and such, but he’d never really applied that idea to the ‘Supernatural’ books. Hearing about it had Tony telling JARVIS “How did I not know this was a thing? Keep track of this for me, J. Maybe Pep and I could go to the next one. Wouldn’t that be fun?”

The two kept up their daily conversations until, suddenly, Sam missed one.

Tony gave him the benefit of the doubt and didn’t instantly hunt the kid down. He waited until the next day to see if maybe a call or text might come in. When it didn’t, and when the text that Tony sent out wasn’t responded to, he had JARVIS try and track down Sam’s cell signal. Tony’s worry grew from a small thing to something a whole lot bigger when JARVIS couldn’t find it. “The signal keeps getting scrambled, Sir. In the past five minutes Sam’s phone has shown itself to be in Tokyo, Buenos Aires, Dublin, Rhode Island, and Alaska.”

“It has to be case related, then.” Tony said. He paced the floor of his workshop. It didn’t quite help the worry, but it helped keep him from grabbing a suit and racing out of there. “A lot of the supernatural stuff they deal with messes with electronics. There’s got to be something they’re hunting that’s making it so he can’t respond. J, call Singer for me. He should know what’s going on.”

Unfortunately, all Bobby had for him was “Cas it looking into it.” Like somehow that made it better or okay that the boys hadn’t been in contact with anyone. Bobby seemed pretty understanding about how upset Tony was, judging by the sympathetic expression on his face, but he also bluntly told Tony “This happens in their line of work. It aint easy, but you learn to deal with it.”

Tony let out a disgusted sigh and flopped down onto his couch. He didn’t bother worrying about appearances in front of Bobby. They’d talked a bit since he’d last left the man healing at home, but one thing Tony had picked up was that Bobby didn’t give a shit about Tony’s fame, his money, or any of the labels society threw on him. He judged the genius by what he could see about him. That kind of honesty was refreshing. “How? I swear, it’s taking everything I have not to put on a suit and hunt him down. Or make him a suit.” Pausing, Tony tilted his head. “Maybe I should make him a suit. Then I wouldn’t have to worry about the grey hairs he’s going to give me if he keeps this up.”

“The last thing that boy needs is a suit.” Bobby said. Tony watched the image in front of him as Bobby shook his head. It looked like the man was at his desk in his living room/library. He had a drink in hand – a not uncommon sight – and what looked like stacks of books and papers on the desktop. Again, not an uncommon sight. But for the moment his attention was fixed on the computer. Or, more accurately, on Tony. “I never said it was easy. But we gotta trust they know what they’re doing sometimes. An they’re together. That’s the safest place for ‘em.”

There was no way Tony could stop the snort that slipped free. “Yeah, right.”

“I know it might not always look like it, but Dean’s not gonna let anything happen to his brother.”

“I know.” No matter what the cost, Dean would keep Sam safe. Of that, Tony had no doubts. “He’ll keep him alive. I know I can count on that. Funny thing is, I happen to give a damn about the kid being more than just alive. I’d like him to be okay, too. Maybe even _happy_. Crazy, I know.”

Bobby sighed. “Sam has a guilt complex bigger than anything. Until this mess is taken care of, I doubt he’s gonna be happy, Stark.”

Wasn’t that the truth? Every life lost, every disaster out there, all of it that was happening right now, Sam was taking on every bit of guilt for because that’s just how the idiot worked. He was horrible at taking on things that he shouldn’t. But for Tony, that was all the more reason to try and fight to make him happy. Because if there was anyone out there that deserved it, it was Sam. Tony wanted him back, happy and safe.

Two days later, he got half of his wish. While Sam wasn’t all that happy, he was back home and he was _safe_. Tony had to fight not to slump in relief when JARVIS told him “Sir, you have a phone call from Sam.”

It didn’t matter that Tony was upstairs attempting to prepare a dinner for Pepper as a surprise. He almost instantly dropped what he was doing and spun to the nearest projector just as the image sprang to life in the air and Sam’s face appeared in front of him. Relief washed through Tony. Though Sam looked tired, and his eyes showed clearly that he was upset, the fact that he was alive and appeared uninjured was enough to chase away so much of Tony’s fear.

“It’s about damn time.” He finally managed to choke out in a voice close to his normal mocking one. “I was beginning to worry.”

A corner of Sam’s mouth quirked up. “Beginning to, huh?”

“You’re going to give me grey hairs, Samuel Winchester. Do you hear me? _Grey_. I know some guys out there can pull off that whole ‘silver fox’ look but I’m not quite ready to go there yet. I’m not that old!”

He was rewarded with a low chuckle. “You could pull it off and you know it. The public would love it.”

Tony huffed and raised the knife he was holding to point at Sam. “True. But I don’t want to. Not yet. So knock it off!”

“Why do you have a knife?” Sam asked him, arching an eyebrow. His expression took on a mocking edge that Tony proudly took credit for. Sam could be a sarcastic shit when he wanted but he’d picked up some mannerisms from Tony over the years and that mocking smile and bit of extra attitude were some of those things. “Good God, Tone, you’re not trying to cook for Pepper, are you? What’d she do to deserve that kind of punishment?”

“Ha, ha. You’re hilarious.”

“I learned from the best.”

Rolling his eyes as he went back to chopping up the vegetables in front of him – it was a dish that he and Sam had learned how to cook together, thank you very much, so he knew it’d turn out fine – Tony kept a careful watch on his kid brother. It was a lot easier to read Sam if you could see him. “So, you call just to snark, or you plan on actually telling me where you’ve been this past little while?”

He saw Sam’s smile soften just a bit. Then his expression changed into something that Tony wasn’t quite sure how to label. Amusement? Grief? Pain? Awe? It was this weird mix of things that Tony didn’t understand. He didn’t get the chance to ask, though, because in the next second Sam threw him completely by saying “We were with the Trickster again.” He saw Tony’s surprise, saw the temper building there, and he smiled again. “Yeah, yeah, but get this – it gets better. Did you know that it’s possible for an angel to run away from Heaven and hide themselves down here on earth?”

That wasn’t hard to piece together. Tony dropped is knife as he turned back towards Sam. “The Trickster is an angel?” Well shit. He would never have guessed _that_.

Sam sat back, revealing a bit of the bed around him, and tilted his head a little. “Archangel, actually.”

“Well shit.”

“Yeah.” Shaking his head, the kid let out a sigh. Then he pushed his hair back from his face. “So, okay, it started when we went to town to investigate some strange cases…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnnd, that's where we're leaving that, because I have no idea how to rewrite the beginning of that case, seeing as how it involved the Hulk. Yeahhh. Not quite sure how to fix that, so, we're glossing over it in the way of fanfics everywhere.
> 
> Next up is Famine - and then there's really not much left. Sam's keeping Tony out as best as he can, and Tony's got stuff he's doing, so he's not really going to be involved in the end of the Apocalypse. Once this is done, we'll get a few one shots I think and start making our way towards the story that started all this for me - Dean in Purgatory and Sam at the Tower.
> 
> Please don't forget to let me know what you think! Reviews are amazing :)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Potential tissue warning...

Per Sam’s request, their daily phone calls dwindled down to twice a week. “It’s more practical.” Sam had pointed out to him. “There are some cases that keep me really busy, Tone, and if I’m worrying about the fact that I haven’t called you or something and that you might come tearing in there, I’m not going to be able to focus. Does that make sense?” The kid had sounded so damn worried about offending Tony that there really wasn’t anything for Tony to do but agree to it or risk upsetting him more. Sneaky little shit. There was no way someone should have the ability to not only pull of terrifyingly awesome puppy-dog eyes, but also manage to convey that very same look through voice alone.

That was why their calls now came less frequently. Tony didn’t like it, but he didn’t have to like it. He just had to respect it.

Keeping himself busy with his Tower helped him to not worry as much as normal. The construction was getting ready to begin and he was more than a little excited about the whole thing.

He and Pepper were actually at hotel in New York, having just finalized the last of the paperwork that would let the official groundbreaking begin next week, when Tony finally got a call from Sam after three days of radio silence. Or, well, not Sam – Bobby. The minute that Tony saw Bobby’s name on his phone, worry creased his brow. He put down the Coke he’d been drinking and shifted in his seat on the couch, ignoring Pepper’s worried looks as he hit the button to answer the call. A second later Bobby’s face appeared on his phone. “Singer! To what do I owe the pleasure of this call?” Tony asked him, his publicity smile in place. Bobby didn’t recognize it; he didn’t know Tony that well yet. Sam would’ve seen through it, though.

Bobby had a grim expression on his face. He was at his desk, like usual, and Tony knew that he was using the program on his computer to call him. Bobby didn’t much like technology, but he didn’t have a problem double clicking the ‘Call Tony’ button on his desktop.  “Stark.”

The way that Bobby said his name was enough to make Tony sit up straight on the couch and drop the act. He furrowed his brows and focused all his attention on the screen of his phone. “What happened to him?”

Pain flashed over Bobby’s face and he let out a heavy sigh. “I’m not sure if I should even be callin’ you. I’m gonna warn you, Dean aint gonna like it. Neither is Cas. But… Sam’s been callin’ for you, an I can’t sit back an ignore it.” The older man drew in a deep breath and then blew it out. He looked exhausted, worried, and yet determined. “The boys went up against one of the Horsemen yesterday. Famine. Thing is, Famine got to them all. His trick is making someone crave something, something they hunger for, until they can’t resist anymore an they do it until it kills them. For Cas, it was his vessel’s love of burgers. For Sam…”

“The demon blood.” Tony breathed out. He knew his eyes were wide and he’d probably lost some color. Jesus! A being that fueled hunger, unleashed around a kid who had a past history of addiction.

“Yeah.” Bobby said. Something happened in the background and he winced at it. It only seemed to fuel his determination, though. His expression hardened. “Sam had his brother lock him down so he couldn’t do nothing, but Famine sent demons after him an Sam couldn’t hold out. Once he, well… once he did it, he went to rescue the boys. Cas says Sam turned down the other demons Famine offered him, an then he used his powers to exorcise the demons inside of Famine and take him down long enough for Dean to cut off his ring. They won.”

At Tony’s side, Pepper reached out and curled her hand over his leg, not saying a word. She was a silent and steady support. Tony barely focused on it, though. All his focus was on his phone. “Where’s Sam now?” The kid was going to be miserable. He’d see it as falling off the wagon, Tony knew, when it sounded like it wasn’t his fault. Convincing him of that was going to be hard as hell. Sam was going to be miserable and in pain and Tony had to get to him. He knew Sam’s mental state better than anyone else. He knew just how badly the kid was hurting. He was pretty sure he was also the only one that knew Sam’s past history with depression, dating back to Stanford, and just how hard he’d bene struggling with it since all of this Apocalypse stuff started.

The way that Bobby’s eyes darted down and away briefly had Tony’s whole body tensing. He didn’t notice Pepper letting go of his leg, nor her pushing up to her feet and moving away from the couch. A little thought niggled at the back of his mind, words that he’d heard a while ago, and they had his worries skyrocketing. “Bobby.” He repeated. “ _Where is he_?”

“Panic room.” Bobby finally said. He looked ashamed of it, yet resigned to it as well. “Best place to hold him. He wanted locked down, Stark. Didn’t trust that his body wouldn’t try doin’ something he couldn’t control. But it…” Suddenly, Bobby looked all of his years. Age shone in and around his eyes as he slumped just a little. It wasn’t a look he’d show around his boys, Tony knew. But Tony was older, and he wasn’t one of Bobby’s adopted kids. The older man didn’t have to hide as much. “He needs someone right now, an Dean’s too broken up to do it, an I’m not who he wants.”

There was absolutely no hesitation in Tony as he pushed up from the couch. “I’ll be there as fast as I can fly.” He didn’t waste a second more on conversation. A click ended the call and Tony was pocketing his phone even as he moved to go grab the case his suit was in. He hadn’t expected to find Pepper already there holding it out to him. She wasn’t a big fan of the suit – she was clear on that. But there was a fierce look in her eyes as she held it out to him and Tony knew she was thinking of the same thing he was. Sam, alone in that panic room, going through withdrawal without anyone there with him to help try and make it better. “Go.” She said, pushing the case at him. “I’ll handle the last of the paperwork and fax anything to Mr. Singer. Go take care of your brother.”

Tony flashed her his brightest, most real grin, and darted in to press a quick and thorough kiss against her lips.

Five minutes later he was in the air above the hotel, heading straight up into the sky. “JARVIS, how far is it to Sioux Falls from here?”

“It should take an estimated four hours, Sir.” JARVIS answered promptly. “However, I believe we can reduce that by at least twenty minutes, if my calculations are correct.”

A grin stretched Tony’s lips. He wasn’t the only one who cared a lot about Sam. “Your calculations are always correct, J. Let’s do it.”

The sound of his repulsors echoed loudly as JARVIS fed extra power through him and Tony shot off through the sky. _I’m coming, kid_ , he thought to himself. _Just hang on, I’m coming._

* * *

They managed to shave off the twenty minutes, just like JARVIS had predicted. Three hours and forty minutes later, Tony was coming in to land right in front of Bobby’s house.

He completely ignored Dean coming towards him through the rows of cars. Tony didn’t bother with him, not even when Dean called out his name. Tony just ignored him. He wasn’t needed to get to Sam. Though, Tony kept the suit on as he marched forward towards a front door that was already opening, prepared for any trouble that the other Winchester or even the angel might cause between here and where Sam was.

Bobby was the one who opened the door. He took one look at Tony still in the suit, then over his shoulder to where Dean was still shouting out his name, and then he sighed and took a step back to make room for Tony. “You know where to go.” Bobby said, gesturing with his hand. “He’s still down there. Don’t think we’ve hit the peak of it, yet.”

“Any signs of his powers coming out?” Tony asked as he stepped inside. He knew last time that Sam’s powers had thrown him all around the room.

“Nope. Should be safe to go in.”

As if that would’ve stopped him. The suit would keep him pretty safe, Tony was sure. It’d at least cushion the impact of any blow Sam tried to send his way or help him brace against it. If Sam’s powers weren’t showing, though, that meant that he’d be free to take this off once he was inside the panic room and beyond the angel that he was sure was around here somewhere. Tony kept that in mind as he set off for the door that led to the basement. Behind him, he heard Dean’s voice – a lot closer than he’d expected – demanding “What the hell, Bobby?”

Tony gave a mental cheer when he heard Bobby snap back at Dean. “I get why you don’t wanna be in there with him, but just cause you’re content to let him sit in there alone don’t mean that the rest of us are. He’s been callin’ for Tony just as much as he calls out your name.”

“You _called him_?”

“Course I did!” Bobby snapped. As Tony opened the door to the basement, he paused long enough to hear Bobby’s next words, spoken in a voice that was lower and gentler than before. “Dean, he aint taking your place, but you can’t keep denying your brother cares about him, or that he cares about Sam. They might not be blood, but that don’t mean they’re not family. How many times have I told you, boy? Family don’t end with blood.”

The easy acceptance from Bobby unclenches something inside of Tony that he hadn’t even realized was there. Having to constantly fight for his place in Sam’s life wasn’t an easy feeling. That didn’t mean that he didn’t think it was worth it – he would always think it was worth it, would always willingly fight anyone who dared try to get between them – but that didn’t mean it was easy. Having Bobby on his side, that was more than he’d expected.

Down at the bottom of the stairs Tony found a man that he had to assume was Castiel. The trench coat and crooked tie gave that away. As did the warning JARVIS gave him that the being in front of him carried a touch of ‘other’ to him. So, Castiel, angel of the Lord, standing guard outside of a thick metal door. Tony might’ve given that more thought if Sam hadn’t let out a guttural scream from inside that room. Tony immediately set forward, only to find Castiel moving to block him. Tony didn’t hesitate to raise a hand and let power fill it. “Move, or I’ll make you move, Feathers.”

“You are Tony Stark.” Castiel said, and, wow, that was a hell of a deep voice.

Inside the mask, out of sight, Tony arched an eyebrow at that gravelly voice, as well as the rather formal sounding words. “Yeah. And you’re standing between me and my brother. I suggest you move, Feathers, before I help you move.”

Tony had to admit he was surprised when Castiel tilted is head, staring at him for a long moment, and then he actually stepped side. Still, Tony didn’t let it stop him. He shot forward as quickly as the suit would let him and hurried to let himself inside. As soon as he was in, he moved to the right, locking down the suit and stepping out, and then he was rushing straight towards the bed in the middle of the room where Sam was lying, thrashing around and bowing upwards, another scream already falling from his lips.

There was no hesitation on Tony’s part as he dropped down onto the edge of the cot – _a freaking cot, not even an actual bed, and he doesn’t even fit on it! –_ and reached for Sam. He wasn’t a stranger to withdrawals and the things that could happen during them. The sweaty skin, the paleness, the glassy eyes, those were no real surprise to him. Nor was the way Sam jumped when Tony pressed a palm flat over his heart. “Sam.” Tony said his name low and firm. Something that would be steady enough for Sam to grab onto and anchor on amidst whatever else was going on. He’d managed to pull out of Sam just how bad the hallucinations had been last time. He didn’t imagine this time was any better. As those glassy eyes shot towards the direction of Tony’s face, the older man repeated his name again. “Hey, Sam. Right up here. That’s it, kid. Bring those eyes up here.”

It took a minute for the twisting and screaming to start to fade, but eventually it did and Sam finally seemed to focus on Tony’s face. His eyes went a bit wider and there was a hint of something almost lucid in them underneath the exhaustion. “Tone?”

“Yeah, bud, it’s me.” A smile softened Tony’s features. He brought his free hand up and curled it briefly over Sam’s cheek before bringing it up to stroke through his hair. “Heard you weren’t feeling too good. If you’d wanted me to visit, you should’ve just called, you know. At least then I could’ve booked us a bit nicer of a room.”

Sam’s eyes rolled slowly upwards, taking in the room around him, and then moved back to Tony. He was slow in his movements, just barely tracking things, and his body was still heaving a little like breathing was hard to do. But he hadn’t started thrashing again or screaming, so Tony was counting it as a win. He counted it as more of one when the kid rasped back, “I don’t know. Seems a step up from some places I’ve stayed.”

This time Tony’s smile was a bit more real; a bit more relieved. “That’s not saying much, puppy.”

“W-What… what are you doing here, Tone?” Sam asked, abruptly turning serious again. Clarity was slowly slipping back into his eyes. Either the little fit he’d been having had passed, or he was pushing through it for the moment. Either one was a possibility.

Tony sighed. “No bullshit? Papa Singer up there gave me a call and let me know what was going on, and I flew right out. I wasn’t going to let you go through this alone again, Sam. Not when I could be here.”

It looked like Sam wanted to argue. He opened his mouth, ready to say something, and then snapped it closed again. His expression tightened to one of clear pain and his body went tense. Tony stayed right where he was with his hand a firm pressure against Sam’s chest and his other hand in his hair. When Sam finally opened his eyes again, the pain and exhaustion was heavier than before, and any fight he might’ve felt was done. “Thanks.” He croaked out.

Though it was hard, Tony smiled. “Shut up.”

The kid’s whole body shook then, a tremor that was followed by a whine he could tell Sam didn’t want to let free. Any more words either one of them had for one another could wait. As Tony bent in, murmuring soft words of reassurance, he put aside the rest of his questions and focused himself solely on the kid who needed him right then. Nothing else mattered.

* * *

That started what turned into one very long night for the both of them. Dean came down only once, watching silently from the door before leaving again. Whatever was going on there, Tony didn’t know, nor did he care. Castiel stayed watch at the door the entire time – a door that was kept open for the moment. The only time that the angel left was when Sam hit the high fever and vomiting portion of the night and Tony had tried to find something to help wipe him down with. When he saw nothing, he snarled. “Are you kidding me?” Sharp eyes cut over to Castiel, who was watching him carefully. “Bad enough you guys couldn’t even find a decent bed to stick him in, you couldn’t even leave him with a bucket, _water_ , anything? _Prisoners_ get better treatment. Hell, I’ve had better treatment from kidnappers!” With another low snarl, he snapped out “I need an empty bucket, a bucket of water, and some soft cloths. The softest you can find. Now!”

He didn’t think about the fact that he was ordering around an angel. This was _Sam_. The rest didn’t matter.

Ten minutes later he had the supplies he’d requested. Castiel set them down at Tony’s side, the man having long ago nabbed an old folding chair from outside the room, but instead of leaving he actually stood there for a moment and watched as Tony unbuttoned his cuffs and rolled up his sleeves, and then wet down one of the clothes and brought it up to Sam’s head. “You care for him a great deal.” Castiel pointed out. “As he cares for you.”

“We’re family.” To Tony, that said it all.

The room fell quiet but for the moans that Sam let free. When he started to murmur again, low pleading sounds that Tony only half understood, the older man shushed him gently. “You’re fine, kid. You’re fine. I’m right here – I’ve got you.” He didn’t care that Castiel was still staring. Let the weirdo stare. Sam had warned him that the angel had a tendency to do that. Tony didn’t bother focusing on it at all and just paid attention to Sam as another hallucination clearly set in. Fever bright eyes were looking somewhere over Tony’s shoulder and there were tears that were building in them. “’m sorry.” Sam’s voice was husky and aching, so full of pain it made Tony’s gut clench. “Pl’se, I didn’… ‘m sorry….”

 _Shit_. Tony fought back his wince and wet the cloth all over again before bringing it up to wipe over Sam’s face. He wiped away the tears as well. Then, cloth and all, he held Sam’s cheek to keep his face still. “Come on, Sam, eyes up here. Look at me. I know it’s hard, but you need to focus here, do you hear me? Those other people, they’re not real. Just me.”

“Tony.” Sam said his name, not like a question, but like a statement. A confirmation that he was here. Then his eyes darted a bit to the side and his eyebrow furrowed, landing on Castiel. “Nnn… not real.” He brought sad, tired eyes back to Tony. “They’re not real… s’ just my head.”

“That’s right, buddy.” There was no way Tony was going to argue and tell him that Castiel was here. As far as he was concerned, the angel could fuck right off anyways. He didn’t have any right to be in here with Sam after the way he’d treated him so far. “It’s just me and you. Well, and JARVIS. He’s watching from the suit, isn’t that right, J?”

“Indeed, Sir.” The sound of JARVIS’s voice was lower than normal, a kindness for the sensitivity that Sam had showed so far. “I will watch over the two of you, Young Sir.”

It broke Tony’s heart as he watched the kid’s whole face fucking _crumple_ like a kid who just lost everything in the world. “Tone, I… I screwed up… I screwed up s’ bad…”

“Like hell.” Tony cut in. He leaned down, making sure that his face was the only thing that Sam could see. “Singer told me what happened, Sam. This wasn’t your fault. You’re a hero, you hear me? You saved your brother, you saved Castiel, and you took out a Horseman. I don’t care what anyone else says, you’re a _hero_. So don’t you apologize to me for that.”

In the next second Tony found his arms full of giant puppy. He sat back in his chair, using one foot to nudge it more towards the head of the bed, and he curled his arms around the giant of a kid who was now leaning forward so that his upper half was draped over Tony’s lap. Pressing one hand against Sam’s back and the other to the back of his head, Tony held on tight and ignored the growing moisture on his lap as his slacks soaked up the tears that Sam silently cried.


	10. Chapter 10

Hours passed by in that little room. Much as Tony could appreciate the fact that this guy had an actual, real-life _panic room_ , by the time morning rolled round he was more than ready to step out for a little while. Sometime in the last hour they’d managed to break the fever that had been raging through Sam most of the night. There hadn’t been any more convulsions for hours, and he wasn’t waking up to throw up. If there was ever a time that was safe for Tony to step out and take a moment to take care of himself, this was it. Which was a good plan – he really had to use the restroom.

That didn’t mean he was going to leave Sam alone, though. “JARVIS, I’m going to take a minute to do a few things. Keep an eye on our boy and let me know the minute he starts to stir.”

“Of course, Sir.” JARVIS answered immediately. The suit was still stationed to the side of the room where it had an easy view of Sam. With JARVIS in the suit’s systems, he’d be able to keep watch on Sam as well as monitor his vitals and other important things. He’d keep an eye on him until Tony came back.

That left the older man free to make his way upstairs. The first thing he did was find a bathroom. Once done in there, he took a moment to use some water and freshen himself up, wiping down his face and arms. A look at his clothes had him scowling a bit. Taking care of Sam was a hands-on sort of thing – eh was almost starving for touch, and Tony could relate to that – but that meant that sweat and other things had found their way onto his clothes. He was going to have to find something else to wear. Maybe raid Sam’s bag or something. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d stolen clothes from him, despite his appalling fashion sense.

His problem was solved by an unexpected source just steps outside the bathroom. Tony had barely come out and turned to the right to head towards the kitchen in hopes of finding coffee when he almost collided with Dean. The guy took one look at him and then thrust forward a hand full of clothes. “Here, figured you might need these.” As soon as Tony took them, the guy spun around and walked away, calling back “Breakfast is on the table in five.”

Tony stared after him for a moment, one eyebrow arched. Then he shook his head. Winchesters. They were weird – the whole lot of them.

When he went back into the bathroom to change, it didn’t escape his notice that the shirt he’d been given was too small to be Sam’s, while the jeans were too small to belong to either boy. At least he could approve of the Black Sabbath emblem that covered the front of the shirt. It fit him almost perfectly. The jeans were a little on the big side – and the _long_ side – but his own belt helped fix part of that, and he settled for rolling up the bottom of the jeans.

Judging by the looks he got when he went out to the kitchen, plus the amused snort from Dean, he figured he probably looked like an idiot. Or a kid trying to dress in their dad’s clothes. He didn’t care. They were clean and that was what mattered.

Bobby was leaning against the counter by the sink while Dean and Castiel were sitting opposite one another at the table. Tony gave them all a half wave and made a beeline for the coffee. Everything else could wait a moment.

“Well help yourself there, buddy.” Dean said dryly as he watched Tony.

Only when he’d taken the first sip – grimacing only a little at the crap quality of the coffee – did Tony finally turn around and smile at him. “I will, thanks.” He lifted his cup in a sort of cheers gesture, then brought it back down and used his free hand to gesture at his clothes. “And thanks for these, too.”

“I had some of Sam’s old stuff upstairs.” Bobby told him. “Figured it’d fit you better’n anything else we got here.”

Yeah, that was a pretty good guess. These guys made Tony feel like a bit of a shrimp. He was used to that, though. It was something you had to get used to if you spent any sort of time around Sam. Even if he wasn’t taller than most everyone around him, he had a size to him, a presence, that made him seem bigger, even if he was usually trying to find a way to make himself look smaller. Still, Tony glanced down at himself and thought for a moment. “I’ll send a message to Pepper, have her overnight a few things out. I need to let her know how the kid’s doing anyways. She worries.” He’d take care of that once he headed back downstairs, which he needed to be doing soon. If Sam continued like he had been, his sleep wasn’t going to last long.

Tony took a second to down over half his cup, grateful that it must’ve been old because it wasn’t that hot, and then he turned to fill it once more. “I don’t suppose any of you are going to be willing to let me move him out of that room yet, are you?” He asked, already knowing the answer. He understood it, too – a little. Sam’s detox was from something that gave him powers. A warded room was the safest place for him. Just – couldn’t they ward a more comfortable room? One with a bathroom?

Behind him, he heard a low snort. “Yeah, no. Sammy’s staying right where he is until this is done.”

When Tony turned back around his eyes went right to Dean and the sullen glare that the man was wearing. But he also took in a few other details, too. Things that cooled his temper just a bit. There were bags under Dean’s eyes that suggested he hadn’t been getting enough sleep. Whether that was because of this thing with Sam or the Apocalypse or something else, Tony didn’t know. But it was clear the older Winchester was moving past tired and into exhausted. Not just in body, either. The look in his eyes made it clear that exhaustion went deep. Which – okay, yeah, it wasn’t like Tony could blame him. The Apocalypse, the Horsemen, running from Michael and Lucifer, all of that had to put a strain on a person.

Seeing all that on Dean’s face had Tony curbing his tongue. Much as he may want to rip this guy apart, he wasn’t going to do it. He couldn’t bring himself to add to the load the guy was already bearing. Tony swallowed back the nasty words he wanted to say and instead switched to an easy, laid back smile. “Fine, we’ll make do. It’s not any worse than some of the cesspools he’s stayed in over the years. A change of sheets might be nice, though. An maybe an idea on how long we can expect this to last.”

“We’re not quite sure.” Bobby answered. He snuck a look over at Dean and then looked back to Tony. “The last time…”

Ah, yes, the last time someone had let Sam out of the panic room and he’d gone off to kill Lilith. Tony nodded his head, ignoring the way that Dean’s features tightened a little at that reminder. However, he couldn’t ignore the words that spilled past Dean’s lips. “Yeah, the last time he went and ended the world. We’re keeping him right where he is until this is done with.”

“Don’t pretend like he didn’t have help with that, kid.” Tony snapped. He knew he should keep his mouth shut – it wasn’t hard to figure out that this was fear and pain talking, not actual temper, and even an idiot could see just how much Dean loved his brother and how damn worried he was for him – but his own worry and a long night of caring for the only real family that Tony had in the world, watching him suffer, made the engineer’s fuse just a bit shorter than normal. “Instead of just condemning Sam for what he did once he got out, maybe you should take a look at who exactly _let him out_. Or, better yet, explain to me how he was alone long enough for someone to sneak in and let him out. I mean, it’s not like you were callous enough to leave him alone while he went through something like that, right? You wouldn’t dream of leaving your precious little Sammy alone to go through something like this without any kind of support… oh, wait, _you did_.”

The temper on Dean’s face grew. At least a good half of it was for Tony himself. The rest of it, the older man could see was fueled by the guilt that grew in those green eyes, and it made him feel a little bad about it. A little. Then Dean was pushing to his feet and lifting a hand to point at Tony as he snapped, “You don’t have a damn clue what you’re talking about. You don’t get to come bursting into our lives whenever you feel like and try to make judgments or take over. You come flying in wearing your fancy suit, acting like you know everything, only to fuck off once you’ve played hero. You’re not down here with us, fighting. You’ve got no idea what goes on when you’re not around!”

“You think so?” Tony asked.  “You really think so? Cause, you know, I think I’m seeing this whole thing pretty clearly, but let’s do a brief recap just to make sure.” Lifting one hand, he began ticking off points on his finger. “You and your brother were on a case where you encountered Famine. Your brother, under the influence of one of the horsemen of the apocalypse, gave in to the urge that not even a slightly-fallen angel could resist, took the power they forced on him and then used it to save all your asses – turning down a chance to drink again at the same time, I might add – and in return you bring him back here and lock him away inside your medieval chamber down there. Instead of helping him, you’re content to sit up here and listen to him scream and moan to yourself about the reminder of the part of your brother you wish you could make disappear. Did I get all that right?”

“Listen here, buddy, just because you _think_ you know Sam, that don’t mean you know me or you know our lives.” Dean snapped.

Tony dropped his hand to curl with his other one around the mug. “ _Au contraire_ , littler Winchester, I _do_ know your brother. Anymore, I’d almost dare say I know him better than you. And I don’t have to know you to know what I see right in front of me. You’re enough like me, it’s not hard to read you.” Tony’s grin turned sharp; a shark’s grin that had set plenty of people on edge before. “You’re exhausted, straight down to your very core, and you keep on fighting but you’re not seeing a way out of this whole mess anymore. The others might not realize it, but you’ve given up, you just keep going through the motions, too tired to even care.”

It looked like Dean was going to say something, but Tony beat him to it, leaning in a little and quickly cutting him off.

“I’ve been there, done that, kid, and I get it. This whole thing, it’s a giant mess, and I doubt anyone can even imagine what it is you two are going through. Any other time, any other place, I’d be a whole lot more sympathetic to it. I’d probably take you out for a beer or twelve, let you bitch a little. But no matter how sorry I feel for you, my loyalty is to that kid lying down there by himself on a cot he barely even fits on.” He let go of his mug to point back in the direction of where the stairs to the basement were. “He’s the reason I’m here. I might understand why you feel like crap – that doesn’t mean I’m going to stand back and let you continue to take it all out on Sam. No one’s saying you don’t have the right to be tired, or angry, or any of that. What you don’t have the right to do is to keep taking your guilt and anger out on the kid who is currently doing everything in his power to fix the mistakes that he already feels solely responsible for.”

In the silence that had fallen over the kitchen, Tony took a moment to finish off his cup of coffee. Once he did he put the cup in the sink. Then he turned to face the other two again. He looked past Bobby, who seemed to be quietly watching them, and then focused on the slightly stunned expression that Dean wore. Seeing it had Tony gentling his tone just the slightest bit. “You know, I want to like you, Winchester. I do. For Sam’s sake at the very least, I’d like it if we could get along. But until you learn that, no matter how justified your anger is, it’s not okay to take it out on Sam, I doubt that’s going to happen.”

Without another word he turned around and walked away.

* * *

Tony didn’t see Dean for the next two days. During that time, Tony only left the panic room to use the bathroom. He ate when Castiel or Bobby brought food in to him, and he drank the coffee they brought like it was water, but most of his focus was on getting Sam through this. He was there when the kid was throwing up, when the fever skyrocketed, when the tremors shook him and the bed he was on. He was there when the hallucinations struck or the nightmares were gripping him. He held Sam through it, murmuring soothing words when needed, stroking his back, playing with his hair. Sometimes Tony would talk him through it, babbling at him about the newest upgrade he was planning for the suit or about the plans he had for Stark Tower.

By the time that Sam’s body finally let go of the last of the poison in it, the two men were both exhausted, sort, and more than ready for sleep.

Surprisingly, it was Castiel who let them out. He’d kept a silent sentry outside the room for almost the entire time that they’d been trapped in there. Now and again he’d left – likely to go be with Dean, which Tony was sure was a better use of his time than just watching Tony and Sam – but he always came back. He was the one to open up the door and to tell them “I believe the worst has passed. There is no risk now in letting him out of here.”

“Hallelujah.” Tony said happily. He turned back to Sam and smiled at the half-asleep kid. “You hear that, puppy? We get to go find a shower and a real bed now.”

Sam gave a low hum and smiled at him. He let Tony help him up and the two of them slowly and carefully made their way out of the panic room. The suit was left there for now; Tony would get it when it was time to leave.

They made it up to the main floor, and then most of the way up the next staircase towards the bedrooms, when Dean came walking out of one of the bedrooms ahead of them. He took one look at them and something that Tony couldn’t quite read flashed across his face. Then, Tony could see it as the lines around his eyes softened a little, and a hint of the big brother that Tony had heard so much came to the forefront. He came forward to meet them just as they reached the top of the stairs. “You look like shit.” He said to Sam.

The kid let out a low, raspy chuckle. “Good to see you too, Dean.”

“Yeah, yeah.” With steady hands the older Winchester reached out and caught Sam on the side opposite Tony. He looked across Sam and caught Tony’s eyes. “Why don’t you go ahead and get changed while I get him through the shower?”

Tony stared at him for a moment, reading the need in Dean’s eyes, a need to do something, and he gave a small nod. This, it wasn’t much, and there was a voice in Tony’s head that said ‘ _too little too late’_ but the rest of him recognized the effort that Dean was putting out here. He was trying. That was better than nothing. Plus, Sam was smiling at him, letting go of a tension that had been there since Tony first arrived, and it was clear he understood more about this olive branch that Dean was extending than Tony did, and was happy about it. That was all that mattered to Tony. “Sounds good to me. I could use some clean clothes.”

After they pointed Tony in the direction of the room he could use, the two set off towards the shower, the low murmur of their voices gradually fading away.

Inside the bedroom, Tony found a change of clothes, and he happily swapped out his dirty ones for the clean ones. A run of his hand through his hair had him grimacing. Almost four days without a shower left him feeling greasy and a bit gross. _Not like it’s the first time_ , he told himself. He’d done binges in his lab that had lasted almost a week before, pausing only to pass out on the couch when he was too exhausted to keep going, only to wake up and start all over again. Four days was nothing. He could wait another day to shower. Right at the moment, the bed in front of him was a whole lot more appealing than anything else. Tony happily kicked off his shoes and then climbed up onto the bed and let himself flop down on it.

It wasn’t the most comfortable of beds, but it wasn’t the worst he’d slept on, either. Tony was already mostly out by the time he curled himself around the pillow.

Only vaguely was he aware of the door opening sometime later. He tried to open an eye and look, giving a low mumble that might’ve been ‘what’s going on’ if he hadn’t had his face buried in blankets. Any worries vanished, though, when he heard Sam’s low voice murmuring “’S just me, Tone” and then the bed was shifting as the kid flopped down on the empty space in front of him. Tony tilted his face just enough to crack open one eye and take in Sam’s exhausted, yet now clean, face. His puppy was already closing his eyes to go to sleep. Tony rolled his eyes. Then he shifted himself forward just enough that he could sling an arm over him. It wasn’t the same as having a body pillow to hug like he did at home, but it was enough to help ease some of the pressure against the reactor in his chest.

Content now that he had Sam right there with him and knew that he wasn’t going anywhere, Tony let out a sigh and the last of his tension drained away, letting him finally drift off to sleep.


	11. Chapter 11

When Sam woke up the next morning it was to the sound of low voices talking over top of him. They weren’t angry, which was a nice change from the hallucinations he’d been having during his detox, and they weren’t shouting, so he was content to simply continue lying where he was and enjoy the sleep that still lingered at the edges of his mind. Getting up didn’t sound like fun at all. It sounded like a terrible idea. He was warm, comfortable, wrapped up in blankets and a solid body half underneath him. Why would he want to move?

As he just enjoyed lying there, the voices over him slowly began to seep in, the words becoming clearer the more that his brain woke up.

“Why do you think I call him puppy?” Tony was saying, a hint of humor in a voice that was already heavy with affection. “He just sort of sprawls all over everything.”

The next voice surprised Sam a little. “He’s always been like that.” Dean said. “And he’s like a freakin’ furnace, too.”

Sam’s pillow vibrated as he heard Tony laugh. It shifted him around, making Sam grumble a little and try to press in a bit closer. In response he felt a hand start to card through his hair. “It works for me. I get cold a lot faster than I used to.”

That was more true than Dean probably realized. With the damage done to his chest and heart, Tony suffered from poor circulation which left him often colder than the average person. It was just one of the many problems the arc reactor caused for him. It was why his workshop was generally kept at a temperature warm enough that the average person would start sweating pretty quickly. Thinking about that, Sam turned his face in a little, rubbing it against Tony’s stomach – he’d finally figured out what it was his face was pressed against – and he slung one leg overtop of Tony’s. It made the man shake again as he laughed at Sam. “I think we’re waking someone up.”

“Nah.” Dean said lowly, and there was a note of affection there that Sam swore hadn’t been there for a long time. “He’ll go right back out if you let him. He’s always slept better with someone there.” There was a heavy sounding note at the end there that had Sam wanting to wake up a bit more, say something to try and take away that sound.

Surprisingly, Tony beat him to it. The man sighed and his hand paused briefly in Sam’s hair. “Dean. I’m not trying to take your place with him.” Tony’s voice was that low and gentle one he got when he was being serious. The one that meant he was trying to be careful about what he said. “My relationship with him doesn’t take away from the one that you have. You’re always going to be the single most important person in his life. To Sam, I’m a friend and a big brother. But you? You’re his friend, brother, and father, all rolled in to one. There’s no one out there that could take your place.”

“He sure seems to run to you easy enough lately.” Dean pointed out.

Tony snorted. “You haven’t exactly been giving him reasons to come to you. Besides, the way I hear it, you’re not exactly running to him for things anymore either, are you? If you’re allowed to run to _Cas_ for things, why can’t Sam have someone he confides in? Or are you the only one allowed to have a relationship outside of the two of you?”

There was the sound of an indrawn breath and Sam just knew this mostly peaceful conversation was about to escalate. He tried not to sigh. They’d managed a bit more peace than he’d expected them to get. It wasn’t friendship, but it was better than outright, open animosity, and Sam would take what he could get. Hopefully one day they’d manage to peacefully be in the same place without trying to out snark one another, though he wasn’t going to hold his breath on it.

Before anyone could start to say anything that would start the fight Sam felt brewing in the air, he spoke up first. “You guys are ruining a perfectly lazy morning.”

Immediately Tony lost the tension that had started to build and he gave a small chuckle as he tugged on Sam’s hair. “No one said you had to wake up.”

“Yeah. So sorry we disturbed your beauty rest, Samantha.” Dean added in.

Sam scowled and opened one eye so he could glare over at Dean. It earned him a smirk, though that didn’t quite hide the bags under Dean’s eyes

There was a tension in the air that grew steadily as they all stayed there. Sam wasn’t all that surprised when Tony was the one to break it. “Well! This is sufficiently awkward.” He said cheerfully. “I don’t know about you two, but I’d like to be able to get dressed. So unless you want to watch…”

Dean threw his hands up in a ‘say no more’ sort of gesture and quickly backed out of the room. When the door was shut, the two on the bed devolved into snickers. “I never pictured your brother as a prude.” Tony said teasingly.

Amused, Sam shook his head, though he didn’t bother trying to sit up. “He’s not. Not really.” He’d never had an issue changing in front of anyone. It was more likely to do with the heavy leer that had been in Tony’s voice at his suggestion and Dean’s ever present need to confirm he was the most heterosexual man to ever exist. It wasn’t as bad as it used to be – having Castiel in their life seemed to be changing that, thankfully, though Sam wished it’d go a little faster so he might not have to watch the rather epic stare downs that seemed to happen so much – but Dean had years of issues to work through before he was going to be okay with that part of himself. The hunting life didn’t exactly breed the most tolerant of people and Dean had always fallen under the idea that he couldn’t afford not to look masculine. John had really pushed that. His boys were going to be _men_. He hadn’t been derogatory against homosexuality, he just hadn’t ever entertained the idea of it. ‘Those people’, as he’d often referred to them, weren’t made for the hunting life in the eyes of quite a few hunters.

Though Sam had never believed it, and he’d always questioned himself, going to Stanford had helped him become more secure in who he was. Gender and sexuality were a fluid idea for him. He didn’t discriminate against anyone for either one of them. Neither did Tony. It helped, Sam sometimes thought, to get as comfortable as he was with someone like Tony to talk to, someone who never really cared one way or another. In those moments that Sam reverted back to the more narrowminded way of thinking, he knew he always had Tony to help put him right back on track.

“Come on, puppy.” Tony said, tugging at Sam’s hair and pulling him out of his thoughts. “Up. I wasn’t kidding about wanting to get dressed. I need a shower and clean clothes before my clothes start to stand up on their own.”

Sam slowly and kind of reluctantly detached himself from Tony’s side. He was completely surprised when Tony didn’t just leave him to stand there. He nudged Sam in the direction of the bathroom with the orders of “I don’t even want to imagine what your breath smells like” and then actually followed him in once they were in there. The older man sneered a little at the size of the room. He had to press against Sam just to get around him. However, once he did he didn’t hesitate to lean in and start the shower. By the time Sam had toothpaste on his toothbrush, Tony was already stripping out of his borrowed clothes. “How’re you feeling, by the way? You look less like you’re dead, at least.”

“You have such a way with words.” Sam said around his toothbrush.

“That didn’t answer my question!”

He heard the shower curtain open and then close a second later. Then Tony was making the most obscene groaning sound possible. It had Sam slanting a look over at the closed curtain. “You do realize I’m still in here, right?”

“I don’t even care.” Tony said, his voice low and happy. “A few days without a proper shower and even this piece of crap one feel likes Heaven.”

Yeah. The shower that Dean had helped Sam through last night had been pretty damn great, too. It’d felt awesome to get clean. Just as it felt awesome to brush off the layers it felt like were on his teeth. _Gross_. It took three rounds of brushing before he finally felt like his mouth was somewhat clean. Once done, he slipped out of the bathroom long enough to change his clothes and grab Tony’s clothes, the ones he’d been wearing when he first came. Bobby had washed them for him. As he brought those back into the bathroom, Tony was just shutting the water off. “I’ve got your clothes for you,” Sam said.

A hand came out from the side of the curtain to grab the towel off the rack. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

Instead of just leaving Tony in there to get dressed, Sam leaned himself against the counter and folded his arms over his chest. He stared at the far wall as he tried to find the words he wanted here. “I want to say ‘thank you’, too.” Sam said slowly. “I…I know this couldn’t have been easy. Being in there with me like that. I just, it was… it was really nice, not having to do it a-alone.”

The curtain opened up and Tony stepped out, still dripping a bit and the towel wrapped round his waist. The arc reactor shone brightly in a way that Sam had started to find soothing. That light had come to mean that Tony was okay, that he was alive, and for Sam that was the most important thing.

“You don’t ever have to thank me for something like that.” Tony told him simply. “We’re family. It’s what we do.”

The way he said it – like it was just so simple and true – made Sam’s throat close up a little. It _should’ve_ been that simple. Yet, out of his family, Tony had been the only one to do anything. He’d been the only one to be down there with Sam, to help him through this, clean him up as he got sick, hold him when he was terrified, talk him through the hallucinations and the pain and just, all of it. No one else had done it. Not that he didn’t understand why. He just – he wished it could be different. He wished _he_ could be different.

A warm hand on his shoulder drew him out of his thoughts. He looked up, not even realizing that he’d looked down and away from Tony, only to find that his brother was watching him with sad and understanding eyes. “They do care about you, pipsqueak.”

“I know.” Sam said softly. He did know that! It was just – it wasn’t always easy to remember in moments like this. Not that he didn’t deserve any kind of treatment they wanted to offer him.

“You know…” Tony paused, almost as if he wasn’t quite sure about what he wanted to say, and then he sighed and Sam swore he could feel the man gathering his courage to speak. “You could come and stay with me if you wanted. Just until you’re feeling better.”

The offer didn’t surprise Sam. He’d known they would come, just as he knew there was only one answer he could give and it wasn’t going to be one that Tony would like. “Tony, you know I can’t.”

“Why not?” Tony demanded. The words that Sam had a feeling he’d been holding in for a while finally came pouring out. He moved away from Sam and reached out to grab his clothes, boxers first, and start to pull them on. As he did he continued to speak. “I get it, I do, you feel responsible for this, even though I think you shouldn’t. An I’m not telling you to just forget about it all. All I’m asking is that you come stay with me for a while and use that time to research. You can still try and figure out ways to stop this or whatever you need to, just do it from the safety of my place while your body has a chance to heal properly.”

It was hard for Sam to turn that down. He wanted to tell Tony yes – he really did. The only place that Sam felt as safe as he did at Tony’s was here at Bobby’s. But they both knew, even as Tony asked, just what Sam’s answer would be. “I can’t.” Sam hated to say it – hated more the look that it put on Tony’s face. His brother had boxers and pants on now and he straightened up, staring right at Sam as the younger man continued to speak. “I’m sorry, Tony, I am. I really wish I could. But, I mean, Dean and I, we’ve got a lot of things to take care of. There’s so much going on out there right now because of all this and we can’t just sit back while people are dying. Especially when it’s…”

When Sam trailed off, Tony’s eyes shot up to his face and there was a fire in them that almost made Sam take a step back. “When it’s what, Sam?”

Sighing, Sam softly finished “When it’s my fault it’s happening to begin with.”

A loud groan echoed in the small room. Tony threw his hands up and spun around, stalking away the two steps to the tub before spinning back around to glare at him. “When are you going to get it through your thick head that this _wasn’t your fault_?” Real, honest temper was on his face and almost radiating off of him, yet there was no threat to it. Sam didn’t feel the need to brace himself for a potential punch. Not even when Tony took a step forward and jabbed a finger at Sam. “You need to stop trying to take the blame for the whole world on your shoulders! They _manipulated you_ , Sam! From the sounds of it, they’ve been doing it most your life, pushing and prodding to get you right where they wanted you. Do you really think you stood a chance against Heaven and Hell? Especially since you didn’t even know half of them existed!”

“That doesn’t make it okay!” Sam protested.

This time it was a growl that Tony let out. “It sure as hell doesn’t make it your fault!” The man made another frustrated sound and pushed both of his hands through his hair. When he dropped them down, he’d gathered back some of his famous control. He reached out with both hands to catch hold of Sam’s face, holding him still so that there was no way Sam could look away as sharp eyes locked right on his. “I get it, Sam, I do. Whether or not it was what you intended, it happened, and you feel guilty for it. _I get it_. But you’ve got to stop trying to take the whole weight of it on your shoulders. I know I can’t convince you not to feel guilty – I just wish you’d realize that it doesn’t all rest on you. Other people share blame, too.”

“I get that. I know that there were others involved. But, when I dream about it, it’s my hands I see doing things, Tone. It’s me. Not them or how they pushed me, but _me_ doing it.”

Tony looked so sad at that. He didn’t argue it, though, and Sam was grateful for that. “That’s why you need to step away, kiddo. There’s no shame in taking care of yourself.” He tilted his head, reading something in Sam’s face, and then let out a heavy sigh. “But you’re not going to. Of course not.” He dropped his hands away from Sam’s face and stepped back. “Of course not. I don’t know why I thought otherwise.”

Guilt sparked in Sam’s stomach. “Tony…”

He held up a hand to stop Sam from talking. “No, no.” Dropping his hand down he put on a smile. One that was a bit strained at the edges but was no less real. “It’s fine, Sam. I get it. I may not _like_ it, but I get it. I’m not going to force you to come with me.”

“You know I’d love to, Tony.”

“I know.” The smile that Tony wore grew a bit bigger and a bit more real. He reached out and grabbed his undershirt, pulling it on before he pulled on regular shirt. Once he had the buttons done up, he looked al to more put together, and a lot more like the Tony that the world was used to seeing. It wasn’t the same Tony that Sam got to see, the one that dressed in worn down jeans and band t-shirts, the one who liked to go barefoot around his house and sometimes even in his lab, but it was still him, and Sam couldn’t help but smile back at him.

Tony reached out and patted Sam’s shoulder. “All right, kid. Let’s go downstairs and enjoy a bit of breakfast before I’ve got to head back. I’m sure it’s going to be fantastically awkward and I don’t want to miss a moment of that.”

They might’ve just gone straight out of the bathroom after that, but before Tony could go too far, Sam caught him up and yanked him in close for a tight hug. “Thank you.”

Strong arms hugged him back, giving off the same feeling of safety that had carried Sam through the past couple of days. “Anytime, Sam.”


	12. Chapter 12

The strength that Sam took from his brother during his detox was something that he carried with him over the next little while. It helped him get through the rising of the dead in Sioux Falls, and then through his own death and resurrection – which he very deliberately did _not_ tell Tony about, he valued his own head thank you very much. It helped carry him through Adam being brought back, and almost losing Dean, and actually losing Adam all over again. No matter what was going on in the world, no matter how angry or hurt or guilty Sam felt, no matter how much he and Dean fought with one another, he knew he had Tony in his corner. He knew his other brother was always going to support him no matter what.

Tony talked to him on those late nights when Sam was either too stressed to sleep, or Lucifer was haunting his dreams and he was afraid to go to sleep. He and JARVIS were there for Sam to text with during the silent car rides or the awkward bouts of intense staring between Dean and Castiel.

So much of their relationship had been done through text and phone calls. Life just didn’t allow them to be close to one another the way they wanted. Still, there were times where Sam wished he could just reach out to Tony. That he could sit beside him and be able to touch him as they talked. Some conversations called for it.

This was probably one of them.

Sam sat on the trunk of a car and stared down at the cell phone in his hands. There was no more putting off this phone call. He’d already put it off too long. But now they were reaching the end here. They were past all rational plans. It was time to go for the only one they had left. He just – wasn’t sure how the hell he was going to explain it to Tony.

Getting Dean on his side had been hard enough. The fact that he’d finally agreed was amazing. Something told Sam that it wouldn’t be as easy with Tony. That this was going to be the one time that Tony wasn’t going to have his back on something. Not that Sam could blame him.

It took a few breaths to steady himself before Sam could make his fingers dial.

“JARVIS, I need to, to leave Tony a message. One I need you to deliver at a certain time, and that I need you not to monitor.”

There was a moment of silence as the AI processed his words. “ _I cannot comply with this request, young sir, as I feel you are very aware of._ ”

Sam sighed. He didn’t want to have to do this. He hadn’t ever wanted to have to do this. “J, I’m asking you as a friend first. As family. I don’t… please don’t make me override this. I don’t like the idea of taking away your will like that. I want… I want you to do this because you agree, not because I have a code that makes you.”

“ _Explain to me why, young sir._ ”

“To keep Tony safe.”

Of course, that answer only served to have JARVIS requesting more information. Somehow – and Sam still wasn’t sure how, even after he’d hung the phone up – he found himself laying out everything for JARVIS. “We have a way to open up his Cage.” Sam told the AI. “But for that to work, we’ve got to find a way to get him _in_ , too. And you know he’s not just going to jump. But… but if I say _Yes_ , and I drag him in…”

“ _Young sir._ ” There was a pained sound to JARVIS’s voice that Sam usually only heard when Tony was at his worst. Hearing it directed his way, well, it was kind of heartwarming at the same time that it made him with – not for the first time – that JARVIS were someone he could reach out and touch. More so when the AI continued to speak, that pained sound still there. “ _I would ask if you thought this through, yet I know you already have. I would talk you out of this if I thought it were possible._ ”

“I have to do this, J.”

“ _Indeed, sir. I know you believe it to be so. Just as I know that nothing I or anyone else say will convince you otherwise._ ”

A sad smile touched Sam’s lips. “I’ll miss you, JARVIS. My life’s been better for having you in it.”

“ _Your presence has made our lives all better, young sir. You’ve touched all of our lives – not just Sir or Ms. Potts, but the rest of the house as well – and you will be dearly missed._ ”

God, this was harder than he’d thought it’d be! Almost as hard as telling Tony. Sam bent forward a little to try and curl up against the ache that was growing stronger in his chest. It made his voice thicker with the emotion he was trying to keep control of. None of it stopped the tears, though. “You take care of your brothers and sister.” Sam told him. Dum-E, Butterfingers, and U, they were all so amazing. All of Tony’s children were. “And you make sure… you make sure Tony doesn’t spiral too much, please? Jim and Pepper, they’ll be able to help a little, but it’s you he’ll turn to. Just… just take care of them. And take care of you.”

“ _It’s been an honor to serve you, and an honor to know you, young sir._ ”

By the time that Sam finally hung up, he’d made his message and he had JARVIS’s promise not to play it until the time that Sam had given him. His hands were shaking when he turned the phone off and set it down. For one brief moment, he sat there and just let himself mourn, let himself grieve. This was going to hurt Tony so much. Tony and Dean and all of Sam’s little family that he’d built over the years. This was going to hurt them so much. But it was the only way he could fix the mess that he’d made. He had to do this.

 _I’m sorry_ , Sam thought, clenching his eyes shut tight against the tears. _I’m so sorry._

* * *

Tony was by himself when he got the call. Or, more accurately, the message. JARVIS made sure that the man was alone when he heard it, though he also made sure that – per Sam’s request – Colonel Rhodes was upstairs with Ms. Potts, ready to come down at a moment’s notice. Because, as Sam had put it, “No matter how much he’s going to want to be alone, he shouldn’t be. Family shouldn’t be alone for things like this, J.”

Though JARVIS often pointed out that he was an artificial intelligence and therefore incapable of truly feeling emotion, if he had to put a feeling to himself as he watched his creator, it would’ve been grief. Worry. Fear. This was not a message he wanted to have to play, yet he couldn’t hold it back any longer. “Sir, you have a new message from Sam.”

The instant JARVIS said those words, Tony straightened up from the company project he’d been working on. There was no better way to get his attention than to mention his little brother. “A message? Why didn’t his call come through? You know you’re supposed to ring him in no matter what, J.”

“My apologies, Sir, but it was at his request.”

Tony waved a hand in the air as if to dismiss that. There was worry growing on his face, though. “Play it.”

What came next was something that Tony never, ever wanted to have to experience again.

“ _Hey, Tony. It’s Sam. Listen…I uh, I may have found a way to stop all this. To stop the Apocalypse. It’s, well, it’s a bit of a long shot. (low, shaky laughter) A huge long shot. But it’s our best hope. The thing is, if this works, I’m not – I don’t know when you’ll um, you’ll hear from me. So, just… I didn’t want you to worry. I’m okay. This, it’s what I need to do. I need to make this right. I, I let him out. I should be the one to put him back in._

 _(short pause) … Tone? You, you’ve been a hell of a friend. I hope you know that. One of the best ones that I’ve ever had. And you’ve been an even more amazing brother. Even when I made mistakes, huge mistakes, you’ve never held them against me for long. You always forgave me, even when no one else did. Even when I_ can’t _. I don’t know if you realize how much that’s meant to me. To know that someone I care about can forgive me. That you still care. You’ve been such an amazing brother to me, even when I thought I didn’t need one, and I always appreciated it no matter what I said. I’m glad I saved you from that ghost. Best case I’ve ever taken, hands down. You just… you take care of yourself, okay? Take care of yourself. I... (another pause, and another shaky breath) I love you, you idiot. So try and stay alive out there.”_

_End of messages._

There was no one other than JARVIS and the bots to witness the wave of fear and grief that crashed over Tony. No one to watch as the man scrambled forward, almost falling off his chair, so that he could grip tightly to the edge of the table as he shakily, furiously, snapped out “Call Sam!”

The workshop was terrifyingly silent as Sam’s phone went straight to voicemail. JARVIS was already preparing the next call even as Tony called out “Call Dean!”

It seemed like this call would go to voicemail, too. Right up until the last minute when a voice finally answered, sounding empty and dead. “ _What?_ ”

“Where’s Sam?” They were the only words that Tony could get out in that moment. The only ones that really mattered to him. He was frozen as the line went quiet, no answer from the other side, and he knew what that meant. Hell, even JARVIS knew what that meant. That didn’t stop Tony from repeating “ _Where is Sam_?” though.

The sound of a sigh echoed around the room. “ _He didn’t call you._ ” There was a soft, broken sounding laugh. “ _No, of course he didn’t tell you. You would’ve come out there and kicked his ass, unlike me. You certainly wouldn’t have walked him right up to the door and gave him the power to jump on through_.”

Tony’s whole body shuddered under those words. He opened his mouth, trying to speak, only for emotion to clog his throat. Dum-E and Butterfingers were on either side of him now, watching him carefully, and U was making her way carefully over. JARVIS stayed silent. They all waited. Not even Sam’s message, was enough to prepare Tony for what Dean said next.

“ _Sam - he said Yes. He said Yes, let the Devil in, and then he got back control and he, he jumped. Took Michael down with him, too. The Apocalypse is over._ ”

Any other time and Tony might’ve been coherent enough to recognize the grief and pain in Dean’s voice. To see just how badly the other Winchester was hurting. At that moment he couldn’t recognize any of it. He could barely register anything beyond the pounding in his head. Sam was - Sam was _in the Cage_? With Michael and Lucifer? “He’s in the _Cage_?”

“ _It was his plan_.” Dean said, and Tony’s brain replayed part of Sam’s message for him. _‘I, I let him out. I should be the one to put him back in.’_

Oh, God, _Sam_. Sam! Tony barely noticed as his legs finally gave way. He didn’t notice as he sank down to the ground like a limp doll. His hands dropped off the table and they just barely caught him on the ground. Some part of him was aware of someone shouting at him, of JARVIS calling out his name, but nothing became real until a familiar pair of arms closed around him. He knew it was Jim holding him, pulling him in close and cradling him against his chest, he just, he _didn’t care_. Sam was gone. His little brother was trapped in a Cage in Hell with two pissed off archangels.

Heat burned trails down his cheeks. Tony bowed his head and clutched at the arms that held him. He heard Jim and Pepper speaking, sharp and hard at first and then, then he heard the gasps, felt Jim’s arms tighten around him, and he knew that they knew now. Tony found his head pulled in against Jim’s chest where he was free to cry and hide as his best friend held him tightly.

“Is there anything we can… we can do for you, Mr. Winchester?” he heard Pepper ask. Bless her, taking care of things for him.

Whatever Dean’s reply was, Tony didn’t hear, and he didn’t care to hear it. He pressed himself even tighter to Jim as the grief washed over him like a tidal wave. Sam was gone. His giant, nerdy, too sweet for his own good, broken puppy of a little brother was _gone_. Tony tightened his hold on Jim and sucked in a shaky breath that held a sob to it. “Rhodey.”

“I know.” Jim pressed his face against Tony’s hair and his body shook just a little. The pain in his voice reminded Tony that he wasn’t the only one who’d cared about Sam. So did the second set of arms that curled around him. Pepper pressed in close, coming up to his chest, and Tony let her in, holding her to him.

There, wrapped up in his best friend and the woman he loved, Ton grieved for his little brother. He grieved until he felt as drained as if he’d been on a week long workshop binge. Drained enough that Jim had to carry him up to his bedroom. As exhaustion tugged at Tony and pulled him down into what he hoped would be a dreamless sleep – and _not_ a sleep filled with nightmares about what might be happening to Sam _right now_ – he felt Pepper curl around him and heard her murmur “I’m so sorry, Tony. I’m so, so sorry.”

* * *

The last thing he expected when he woke in the morning was to find a text on his phone from a strange number. It was short and to the point and yet it broke the fortress of grief that had built around him. Pepper found him sitting up in bed, sobbing hysterically and beaming as he clutched his phone, reading the message over and over again.

_Alive. Not sure how - until I’m sure, safer to stay away. I’ll contact you when I can - Puppy_

**The End**


End file.
